*/ 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIML  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


.J^uM  f^-'^f' 


-<! 


ROEBUCK 


%  fobfL 


NEW  YORK: 
M.      DOOLADY,     PUBLISHER 

448    BiiooME    Steeet. 

186G. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  18G(5, 

BY    M.     DOOLADY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  Slates, 

for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


'W.   GAXNOX,   STEKEOTYPEU,  JonX  J.   REED,   PUIXIEB, 

No.  105  Na^u  St..  N.  Y  Rear  43  Centie  St..  N.  Y. 


'^t^M/A^ 


COMT^BHTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

I. —The  Faiif\ixe3  of  Roebuck.        -         -  -        5 

11. — Slaves  at  Roebuck.        -         -          -          -  13 

III.— Visitors  at  Roebuck,           -          -          -  -     28 

IV.— Table-Talk  at  Roebuck.         -         -          -  43 

V. — Roebuck  Threatened-.         -         -          -  -     55 

VI.— War. Go 

VII. — Secession.        -.-         -         -         -  -71 

VIIL— Drink.         ...---  84 

IX. — Poor  Whites  near  Roebuck.        -         -  -     97 

X.— Willowbank. lOG 

XL— The  Volunteers.        -         -         -         -  -  113 

XII.— Manassa. 121 

XIIL— ADuel. 133 

XIV.— Roebuck  after  Manassa.          .          -          -  150 

XV. — Combyx  at  Roebuck.         -         -         -  -  161 

XVI. — Conspiracies.        -         -         -         -         -  172 

XVII.— lusurreclion.    -         -         -  '      -         -  -  183 

XVIIL— Love  at  Roebuck.          -          -          -          -  108 

XIX.— Tremaiae. 210 

XX.-GabrieL 223 

557G74 


4  CONTENTS. 

CnAPTER  PAGE 

XXI. — Bushwhacking  at  Roebuck.    -         -         -  233 

XXII. — Yengeaucc.      -         -         -         -         -  213 

XXIII.— Baxter.        -         -         -         -         -         -251 

XXIV.— Albert  Palmer's  Love.        -         -         -  2G0 

aXXV.— :Mark  Marlin.       -         -         -         -         -  270 

XXVL— The  Journey.  -         -         -      '  -         -  281 

XXVII —Doctor  Dick. 201 

XXVIII.— Hugh  Fitzhugh.       -         -         -         -  297 

XXIX.— Washington. 306 

XXX.— Frederic  Fairfax.      -          -          -          -  316 

XXXI.— The  End. 323 


ROEBUCK. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   FAIRFAXES    OF   KOEBUCK. 

Roebuck  was  onp  of  the  finest  estates  in  the  conn- 
try.  Its  acres  were  reckoned  by  thousands,  and  the 
slaves  upon  it  were  numbered  by  hundreds.  It  has 
been  equally  admired  for  beauty  and  fertility.  Before 
it  was  laid  waste  by  the  ravage^  of  invasion,  taste, 
skill  and  industry  in  improving,  cultivating  and 
adorning  it  had  brought  the  effects  of  art  to  rival  the 
luxuriant  beauty  of  nature.  In  front  of  the  plantation 
Deer  River  sweeps  with  gentle  curves — a  pretty 
stream,  scarcely  entitled  to  the  appellation  of  a  river. 
From  the  margin  of  the  stream  spreads  out  a  wide 
and  fertile  bottom  to  a  bluff  about  fifty  feet  high,  and 
from  the  bluff  a  table  of  undulating  land  extends  to 
the  foot  of  a  hill  called  Elk  Ridge.  Several  brooks, 
flowing  from  the  ridge  to  the  river,  cut  the  plateau 
with  ravines  and  dells,  and  supply  the  fields  with 
water.  The  native  forest,  covering  many  hundred 
acres  together,  and  scattered  here  and  there  in  small 
groves,  contributes  to  the  various  beauties  of  the  land- 
scape and  to  the  more  substantial  uses  of  the  planta- 
tion. Upon  the  table  land,  a  furlong  from  the  bluff, 
and  surmounting  a  gentle  eminence,  stands  Cstood, 


6  ROEBUCK, 

alas  !)a  large  and  elegant  mansion,  -which,  a  few  years 
ago,  replaced  a  more  ancient  edifice,  then  destroyed 
by  accidental  fire.  Before  the  house  a  gi'assy  lawn 
extended  belo>v  the  blulT,  which  there  declined  into 
the  bottom  'with  gradual  slope.  About  the  mansion 
trim  walks,  edged  with  box,  led  among  evergreen  or 
flowering  shrubs  and  trees  of  rare  foliage  or  stately 
altitude,  both  of  native  and  foreign  origin,  and 
through  a  flower-garden  blooming  with  all  the  floral 
glories  of  Virginia,  At  a  greater  distance  orchards, 
vineyards,  meadows  and  fields  of  corn,  tobacco,  wheat 
and  other  crops,  in  the  orderly  circle  of  their  seasons, 
rewarded  the  busy  hand  of  skilful  culture  r^'ith  the 
ripe  gifts  of  a  genial  climate  and  prolific  soil.  In 
various  directions  might  be  seen  the  negro  quarters, 
hamlets  of  white  cabins,  with  their  "patches,"  or 
kitchen-gardens  attached.  On  every  side  the  build- 
ings, fences,  implements  and  modes  of  cultivation, 
showed  the  intelligent  spirit  of  modern  improvement, 
though  here  and  there  might  be  detected,  also,  traits 
of  the  pride  of  inheritance  and  marks  of  veneration 
for  old  usages  and  traditions. 

The  new  mansion  and  the  modern  improvements 
were  the  work  of  Colonel  Frederick  Fau-fax,  the 
last  who  has  borne  that  name.  Both  the  name  of 
Frederick  and  the  title  of  Colonel  devolved  upon  him 
by  a  kind  of  inheritance,  as  if  they  were  annexed  to 
the  estate.  Dui-ing  three  generations  they  designated 
the  proprietor.  The  first  Colonel  Frederick  had  won 
the  rank  in  actual  service.  The  title  was  transmitted 
by  country  courtesy  to  the  son,  who  inherited  his 
name  and  estate,  and,  after  two  generations,  it  became 
an  easy  trick  of  inheritance,  by  custom,  to  invest  Fred- 
erick, the  succeeding  son  and  heir,  with  the  same  title       qOt 


ROEBUCK.  7 

when  he  came  into  possession  of  the  same  estate, 
i  This  was  a  natural  expression  of  courtesy  on  the  part 
of  a  community  that  always  respected  pedigrees, 
'  nourished  traditions,  admired  martial  virtues  and 
affected  military  honors.  But  the  title,  thus  derived, 
was  seldom  conferred  Avith  his  name  in  full  upon  the 
third  Frederick  Fairfax.  He  was  usually  but  "  Colonel 
Fred."  to  his  neighbors.  The  humblest  of  them  often 
saluted  him  with  that  flimiliar  brevity,  and  he  was 
thus  commonly  styled  throughout  the  country.  It 
may  be  thence  inferred  that  he  had  affable  manners, 
and  a  frank,  cheerful,  sunny  disposition.  This  happy 
temper  relieved,  without  disguising,  his  pride  of  birth. 
His  fortune  excited  no  envy,  yet  familiarity  never 
degraded  the  dignity  of  his  demeanor.  He  was  a 
man  of  tall,  commanding  stature,  of  vigorous  frame  and 
graceful  action,  with  bold,  but  regular  features.  His 
complexion  was  fair  and  fresh,  but  imbrowned  by  the 
Bun.  His  eyes  were  blue,  and  his  hair,  of  light  brown, 
was  soft,  wavy  and  inclined  to  curl.  It  began  to  note 
the  years  with  a  few  silver  threads — white  marks  of 
happy  years.  He  was  nearly  sixty.  His  mind  was 
large,  penetrating  and  remarkable  for  sound  judg- 
ment in  the  affairs  of  life.  In  conduct  he  was  gentle, 
honorable,  brave  and  energetic.  When  he  was  young 
he  earned  away  the  honors  of  the  University.  Then 
he  spent  in  the  healthy  pleasures  of  the  country  and 
in  visiting  cities,  the  period  assigned  by  custom  to 
young  gentlemen  of  wealth  for  recreation  between  the 
discipline  of  youth  and  the  responsibilities  of  man- 
hood. Whilst  he  was  thus  enjoying  leisure,  his  popu- 
lar manners,  the  reputation  of  his  scholastic  triumphs 
and  the  general  respect  for  his  family,  induced  the 
people  of  the  county  to  elect  him  as  their  represeu- 


8  ROEBUCK.. 

tative  in  the  legislature  of  that  State.  He  had  scn'cd 
several  sessions  in  that  body  with  rising  credit,  when 
the  death  of  his  father  called  him,  at  the  age  of  thirty, 
to  the  care  of  his  estate.  Thencefoxlh  he  devoted 
himself  to  agriculture  and  to  the  duties  of  a  private 
citizen.  In  the  management  of  a  large  estate,  and  in 
the  performance  of  his  proper  part  as  a  gentleman  of 
prominent  position  and  leading  influence  in  his 
county,  he  found  employment  for  his  ability  and 
energy.  He  was  among  the  most  successful  planters 
of  Viro-inia.  Free  from  the  canker  of  avarice,  he  felt 
an  honorable  ambition  to  excel  in  whatever  he  at- 
tempted and  a  liberal  pleasure  in  the  protitable  em- 
ployment of  all  the  means  intrusted  to  his  care.  He 
was  proud  of  the  public  benefits  which  resulted  from 
the  improvements  he  introduced ;  he  had  pride  in  a 
princely  revenue ;  but  his  benevolence  was  not  less 
princely. 

As  a  slaveholder  a  numerous  population  depended 
upon  him,  and,  with  his  accustomed  energy,  be  exer- 
cised over  them  the  functions  both  of  guardian  and 
governor.  Ko  slaves  had  their  wants  supplied  with 
more  judicious  or  provident  liberality  than  his ;  none 
were  more  contented,  or  with  better  reason  ;  but  none 
yielded  larger  profits  from  their  labor.  By  regulating 
their  industry  according  to  a  well-devised  system,  by 
attention  to  their  health,  comfort  and  chced'aluess — 
by  the  employment  of  proper  overseers,  and  by  the 
constant  supervision  of  his  own  intelligence,  he  de- 
rived from  the  moderate  exertions  of  all  ample  pros- 
perity, of  which  they  all  partook.  Believing  the  ser- 
vitude of  negroes  under  a  superior  race  to  be  a  need- 
ful supplement  to  then*  improvident  nature,  he  did 
not,  with  sentimental  inconsistency,  shrink  from  the 


ROEBUCK.  9 

exercise  of  the  authority  and  discipline  which  servi- 
tude implies.  He  was  a  humane  master,  but  he  was 
master.  The  community  under  his  control  was  bur- 
dened with  no  drones,  unless  two  or  three  able-bodied 
but  idle  pensioners  deserved  that  opprobrious  epi- 
thot.  It  was  a  comnmnity  which  produced  within  it- 
self nearly  everything  that  its  essential  wants  re- 
quired. Among  the  seiwants  were  carpenters,  shoe-  - 
makers,  smiths,  weavers  and  other  artisans,  skilful  in  ' 
their  trades.  Besides  the  staple  crops,  the  plantation 
produced  flax,  wool  and  other  materials,  to  be  fobri- 
cated  for  the  use  of  the  negroes.  Every  m.arried 
slave  was  allt)wed  a  "  patch,"  or  kitchen-garden,  pro-  ^ 
portioned  in  size  to  the  number  of  his  family,  and  the 
most  thrifty  among  them  made  more  profit  from  these 
patches  and  from  sales  of  fowls  and  G^g^,  than  the 
ordinary  wages  of  laborers.  They  were,  of  course, 
supplied  with  food  and  clothing  by  the  master. 

He  was  not  the  least  industrious  member  of  the 
community.  It  was  his  habit  to  give  the  day  to  busi- 
ness, until  near  the  hour  of  dinner,  which  was  about 
four  o'clock.  He  spent  the  morning  in  correspond- 
ence, or  examining  accounts  or  other  In-door  work, 
or,  more  commonly,  in  riding  over  his  plantation,  and 
giving  his  personal  attention  to  all  its  operations. 
This  had  been  his  habit  for  many  years,  and  now,  as 
he  approached  the  age  of  three  score,  his  industry  was 
not  relaxed.  So  benignly  crept  the  shadow  of  age 
over  his  active  and  useful  life  that  "  his  eye  was  not 
dim  nor  his  natural  force  abaied." 

His  wife,  some  five  years  younger  than  himself,  was 
a  lady  of  comely  person,  and,  in  character  and  man- 
ners, an  agreeable  type  of  mature  womanhood.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  a  distinguished  public  man,  and 

1* 


10  ROEBUCK. 

before  her  marria<j:e  had  been  a  toast  and  a  belle  in 
the  most  elevated  circle  of  society.  But  when  she 
Avas  led  to  the  altar,  she  left  upon  it  all  the  gay  gar- 
lands of  maidenly  vanity,  and,  with  the  ring,  she  wore 
thenceforth  the  graceful  dignities  of  wedded  love. 
As  a  matron,  she  was  proud  of  raatronhood  as  the 
proper  consummation  of  a  woman's  ambition — the 
natural  sphere  of  her  highest  duties,  honors  and  de- 
lights. In  Virginia,  by  the  grace  of  God,  women  are 
feminine.  They  aim  to  excel  in  the  lovely  qualities 
of  their  own  sex,  without  competing  for  the  prizes  of 
the  other.  The  form  of  Mrs.  Fairfax  had  once  been 
delicate,  but  years,  which  threatened  \\Tinkle8, 
brought  a  smooth  and  pleasant  roundness  to  her 
cheeks  and  a  more  ample  dignity  to  her  form.  As 
the  wife  of  a  planter  and  mistress  of  an  extensive  es- 
tablishment, she  had  many  responsibilities  and  not  a 
few  anxieties.  But  a  sense  of  responsibility,  suited 
to  such  a  station  in  life,  had  been  cultivated  as  part 
of  her  education,  and  had  been  exercised  ever  since 
her  marriage.  Sustained  by  her  husband,  she  fulfilled 
the  duties  of  her  position  with  constant  and  cheerful 
fidelity.  Her  life  was  one  of  daily  usefulness,  and 
her  servants  were  scarcely  less  indebted  to  her 
womanly  kindness  than  to  the  provident  care  of  their 
master.  Yet,  the  nature  of  this  gentlewoman  was  of 
such  delicate  texture  that  she  leaned  continually  upon 
the  strength  of  her  husband,  and  was  dependent  upon 
his  society  and  affection  for  every  hour  of  her  happi- 
ness. She,  to  whom  so  many  feeble  creatures  looked 
up  for  protection,  looked  up  to  him  with  a  trust 
almost  religious. 

There  was  no  living  son  to  inherit  the  name  and 
title  of  "  Colonel  Fred."  Several  children  had  died. 
There  remained  only  one  daughter.     The  loss  of  chil- 


ROEBUCK.  11 

dren  had  boon  almost  tlie  sole  fifFiiction  of  Colonel 
Fairfax  and  his  wife  during  their  married  lives. 
Their  parental  affection  Avas  now  concentrated  upon 
theii*  daughter,  Julia.  She  was  about  the  age  of 
twenty.  She  had  the  fair  skin  and  brown  hair  of  her 
father,  with  the  hazel  eyes  of  her  mother.  In  person 
she  rather  surpassed  the  middle  height  of  woman, 
but  was  not  quite  tall.  Her  form  might  have  been 
deemed  too  slender  for  perfect  beauty,  but  its  outlines 
were  round  enough  for  grace.  Her  face  cannot  be 
described  featm-e  by  feature,  w^ithout  producing  a 
false  idea  of  its  character.  All  who  saw  it  pro- 
nounced it  beautiful ;  but  those  who  saw  it  only  once 
might  dispute  with  each  other  what  was  its  chief  at- 
tribute. Such  was  the  transparent  sincerity  of  her 
countenance,  that  the  £»)ecial  charm  of  her  beauty 
changed  with  her  emotions.  Her  customary  manner 
was  one  of  modest  and  winning  gentleness.  But  she 
often  displayed  the  gaiety  of  girlhood  and  innocence. 
Every  tender  sentiment,  every  pure  passion  impressed 
itself  upon  her  heart,  and  flashed  its  expression  in  her 
eyes  as  pictures  are  made  by  a  glance  of  sunlight. 
Under  this  versatile  delicacy,  however,  her  essential 
character  had  the  firmness  of  high  principle  and 
almost  masculine  courage.  Being  an  only  child,  and 
loving  her  parents  with  reverential  devotion,  she  en- 
deavored to  fill  for  them  the  vacant  places  of  sons 
and  daughters.  She  interested  herself  in  all  her 
fixther's  pursuits,  promoting  his  plans  and  sharing  his 
counsels.  She  often  rode  with  him  over  the  planta- 
tion, chatting  of  crops  with  a  tongue  as  lively  as 
maidens  use  to  discuss  the  latest  fashion  of  artificial 
flowers.  By  frequent  association  with  her  father  in 
manly  avocations  and  pleasures,  she  may  have  con- 


IS  ROEBUCK. 

tracted  some  modes  of  thought  and  feeling  somewhat 
more  masculine  than  the  native  traits  of  her  char- 
acter. 

In  introducing  to  the  reader  the  Fairfaxes  of  Roc- 
buck,  vre  should  not  pass  over  tlie  Colonel's  bachelor 
brother,  Richard ;  but  his  loquacious  habit  will  make 
him  known  to  all  w^ho  come  within  the  sound  of  his 
voice.     He  had  an  estate  of  his  own,  and  kept  up  a 
domestic  establishment  upon  it ;  but  the  greater  part 
of  his  time  was  spent  at  Roebuck,  or,  in  winter,  at 
Richmond.     He  was   two   years   younger   than    his 
brother,  the  Colonel,  and  was  a  man  of  small  stature. 
But  by  some  forgotten  trick  of  nursery  nomenclature 
he  had  been  called  in  childhood  "  big  brother,"  and 
60  he  was   still  sometimes    playfully  styled   by  the 
larger  and  elder  Frederick.     He  had  been   educated 
as  a  physician,  and  entered  upon  the  practice  of  his 
profession  under    the  influence  of  young  ambition. 
But,   after   a   few  years,    the  easy   mdependence    of 
hereditary  acres    tempted    him    away  Irom  a  voca- 
tion so  laborious.     He  was  once  disappointed  in  an 
affair  of  love,  and  that  ordinary  event,  touching  one 
of  the  keys  of  a  w^himsical  nature,  made  him  forsweai" 
matrimony   altogether.       He    retained   the    title    of 
Doctor,  aud  as  he  grew  to  be  an  old  bachei)r,  he  was 
generally  named,  with  curt  familiarity,  Doctor  Dick. 
His  style  of  conversation  did  not  repress  the  liberty 
which  men  were  inclined  to  take  with  his  name,  for 
it  was  frequently  a  style  of  satiiical  banter  and  half- 
comic  extravagance.     He  sometimes  affected  a  bitter- 
ness of  invective  that  might  have   convicted  him  of 
extreme  ill-nature,  if  his  conduct  liad  not  proved  that 
the  roughness  of  his  tongue  was  to  his  heai't  as  a 
ci'abbed  preface  to  a  generous  volume. 


ROEBUCK.  13 


CHAPTER  11. 

SLAVES      AT     ROEBUCK. 

OxE  morning  in  the  spring  of  the  year  eighteen 
hundred  and  sixty-one,  Colonel  Fairfax,  according  to 
his  custom,  rode  out  from  his  house  to  make  the 
grand  round  of  his  plantation.  We  are  not  to  accom- 
pany him  with  a  view  of  observing  the  scenery  of  the 
farm,  or  of  noting  the  information  he  obtained  or  the 
orders  he  gave  or  the  progress  of  cultivation.  Those 
who  would  learn  in  detail  how  the  agriculture  of  Vir- 
ginia was  so  greatly  improved,  as  it  has  been  during 
the  last  quarter  of  a  century,  with  immense  advantage 
to  both  races  who  inhabit  there,  will  find  more 
authentic  sources  of  information.  We  are  to  chroni- 
cle only  a  few  incidents  of  the  colonel's  morning  ride 
that  have  an  interest  more  personal  and  less  grave 
than  the  topics  of  an  agricultural  report. 

Not  far  from  the  mansion  stood  several  negro  cabins 
in  a  cluster,  and  around  them  swarmed  a  number  of 
young  Africans,  looking  like  bees  about  their  hives, 
but  idling  like  butterflies  in  the  early  sunshine.  Rid- 
ing to  the  door  of  one  of  those  cabins,  the  colonel  dis- 
mounted and  entered  it  to  make  a  visit,  which  he  re- 
peated almost  daily.  Within  was  an  old  negro  man 
lying  upon  a  bed,  from  which  he  rose  wiien  he  saw 
his  master  coming  to  the  door.  His  age  was  evidently  ^ 
very  great,  and  he  reckoned  it  roundly  at  a  hundred. 
He  wore  a  long  white  beard,  which  he  preserved  at 


U  ROEP.UCK. 

the  request  of  his  master.  His  hair  was  nearly  fis 
white  as  wool.  Rising  from  the  bed  he  walked  feebly 
with  the  help  of  a  long  cane  to  a  stool,  on  which  he 
seated  himself  in  obedience  to  a  gesture  of  the  col- 
onel, after  they  had  shaken  hands  with  each  other. 
The  master  stood  while  they  held  the  brief  conversa- 
tion which  was  so  often  repeated,  and  for  which  old 
Valentine  looked  forward  as  the  leading  event  of  his 
daily  life.  Before  age  had  impaired  his  faculties  he 
had  been  a  fair  though  rather  favorable  type  of  his 
race  in  Virginia.  It  was  his  pride  to  have  served 
three  generations  of  the  Fairfaxes  of  Ivoebuck.  All 
the  respectability  of  the  family  was  appropriated  to 
Jiimself,  but  only  in  comparing  his  station  with  that 
of  other  negroes.  He  yielded  the  place  of  superiority 
to  the  white  race  without  doubt  or  reluctance,  and  as 
he  assigned  the  highest  rank  in  that  race  to  the  Fair- 
fax family,  he  and  the  other  servants  of  that  family 
were  at  the  top  of  the  black  ladder.  Fidelity  and  1 
^.  obedience  were  the  two  prime  virtues  of  his  class,  ' 
'  according  to  his  moral  code.  For  the  rest  of  moral- 
ity the  masters  were  responsible.  Reason,  principle 
and  free  will  would  not  have  kept  him  in  a  right  path 
long  if  left  to  himself,  but  he  was  capable  of  under- 
standing and  practicing  such  simple  and  direct  duties 
as  fidelity  and  obedience  to  a  master.  Through  them 
he  was  made  useful  and  happy,  and  was  civilized 
beyond  the  highest  conception  of  his  grandfather, 
who  was  a  native  African,  and  above  the  independent 
attainments  of  his  race  during  forty  centuries.  The 
brutality  and  treachery  of  savage  blood  were  nearly 
extinsfuished  in  him,  and,  as  a  docUe  and  contented 
slave,  he  spent  his  life  in  cheerful  labor  with  many 
merry  holidays.     In  servitude  he  had  the  pleasures 


ROEBUCK.  15 

which  his  better  nature  craved,  but  not  those  hip^her 
enjoyments  which  couki  not  be  his  in  any  condition. 
Among  temples  Avhich  all  the  tribes  in  Africa  could 
never  have  built,  he  learned  the  practical  precepts  of 
a  religion  whose  sublime  dogmas  his  ancesters  could 
not  have  preserved  in  memory  from  the  rising  to  the 
setting  of  the  sun.  And  now  it  was  his  boast  that  he 
had  been  always  a  faithful  servant,  and  his  master, 
recognizing  the  claim  which  such  servitude  estab- 
lished, treated  the  old  man  with  the  kindest  care  and 
with  sincere  respect. 

'•  How  are  you  to-day.  Uncle  Valentine  V*  he  asked, 
when  the  antique  African  was  seated. 

"Pretty  mis' able,  thanks  be  to  de  Lord,  Master 
Fred." 

"  What's  your  misery.  Uncle?" 

"  On'y  waitin'  for  de  Lord  to  take  his  servant  to 
hesef." 

"  Do  you  want  to  die  then  V 

"  Never,  Master  Fred.,  Lord  bless  your  dear  soul, 
never." 

"  How  old  are  you,  now  ?" 

"  Well,  you  can  count  it  np.  I  seed  Gin'al  Wash- 
inton  a  crossin'  de  Delaware  when  I  was  seven  or 
fifteen  or  along  thar,  and  I  seed  de  black  filly  dey 
called  Flora  beat  Colonel  Dixon's  boss  Thunder,  but 
you  know  ef  black  Dick  he  had  rid  Thunder  " 

"  Oh,  I  remember.  Uncle.  Do  you  get  evei-ything 
you  want  1  Do  the  chaps  wait  on  you  properly?  Is 
your  bed  attended  to,  and  youi-  fire  and  everything  V 

"  Yes,  eveiy thing.  Master  Fred.,  thank  you.  Dis 
mis' able  old  nigger  gits  everything  he  wants  till  de 
Lord  he  do  come." 

"  Very  well,  make  them  attend  to  you.    Don't  for- 


IG  ROEBUCK. 

get,  Uncle  Valentine,  wlion  that  white  beard  grows  a 
little  longer  I  am  going  to  have  your  picture  taken  to 
be  hung  up  beside  my  grandfiither's.'' 

"  Your  grandfather,  he  was  de  first  Colonel  Frede- 
rick. AVhen  he  tuk  me  to  de  army  i'oc  his  body  sar- 
vant,  he  rode  de  English  boss  Hover,  and  when  we 
come  to  de  camp" 

"  Tell  me  about  that  to-morrow.  Xow  come  out 
here  into  the  sunshine.  Let  me  carry  your  stool  for 
you.     There — good-bye." 

'•Lord  bless  dat  boy,"  said  the  old  man,  as  his 
master  rode  away,  "  and  bless  old  master,  too ;  but 
he's  gone  afore  me  long  ago  to  Abram's  bosom,  thank 
de  Lord  for  all  His  marcies." 

At  a  later  hour,  and  in  another  part  of  the  planta- 
tation,  the  Colonel  saw  a  negro  fellow  jump  up  from 
the  ground  where  he  had  been  lying  on  his  back 
with  his  face  turned  to  the  sun  as  duly  as  a  sun- 
flower. He  ran  towards  a  gate  through  which  his 
master  was  about  to  pass  and  held  it  open.  He  was 
very  blaok.  His  head  and  heels  both  stood  out  rear- 
ward almost  as  far  as  his  hips,  and  his  nose  lay  in 
ambush  behind  his  lips.  An  elaborate  bow  and  a 
sheepish  twinkle  of  his  eyes  denoted  to  the  Colonel 
that  Ben  was  waiting  there  to  ask  some  favor. 

"  Well,  Ben,"  he  said  when  he  came  to  the  gate, 
"  what  do  you  want  ?" 

"Kuffin,  Master." 

"You  do  wait  something  ;  why  can't  you  tell  the 
truth  ?" 

*'  Dat's  it,  Maste'/,"  replied  Ben  with  a  grin,  show- 
ing more  red  than  white,  "  no  nigger  don^t  tell  truth ; 
on'y  you's  found  Ben  out,  and  you  knows  he  lies." 
Ben  giggled  as  if  he  relished  his  own  satke,  or  would 
laugh  his  master  into  favorable  humor. 


ROEBUCK.  17 

"  TVliat  (To  yon -want,  Ben  ?" 

"I  bin  a  thinkin',  Master,  maybe  yon'd  like  to  sell 
this  'ere  lazy,  lyin'  nigger." 

"  Sell  you!     Do  you  want  to  be  soldi" 

"  Yes,  Master.  I  can't  keep  from  lyin',  an'  I  ain't 
good  enough  for  you." 

"  That's  not  your  reason  ;  but  what  master  have 
you  chosen  ?" 

"  Dar's  Squire  Anderson,  maybe  he  mout  buy  me, 
'case  he  don't  know  much  about  me  f 

"  Tell  me,  Ben,  why  you  wish  to  be  sold  ?  Are 
you  worked  too  hard  ?  Are  you  not  well  treated  ? 
Has  the  overseer  done  anything  to  you  V* 

"  No,  Master,  de  God's  truth  is,  it's  jis  my  wife.'* 

*'  You  want  to  get  rid  of  Nancy  V 

"Dat's  afac'." 

"  Why  f ' 

"  'Case  she's  done  got  religion,  and  I  can't  bide  her 
no  how." 

"  When  did  she  get  religion,  Ben  ?" 

"  She  done  come  through  last  Sunday  night." 

"  Religion  should  make  her  a  better  wife." 

"  No,  Master,  beg  your  pardon,  religion  ain't  good 
for  nigger  women.  She  goes  prayin'  and  singin'  and 
beggin'  among  them  religious  fellers,  and  when  she 
comes  home  from  de  prayer-meetin's  she  goes  a  rollin' 
on  de  floor  and  kickin'  up  her  heels,  and  won't  come 
to  bed  all  night.  She  never  gives  me  a  good  word 
no  more,  on'y  poor  sinner,  poor  sinner." 

"  And  what  have  you  done  V* 

"  I  done  switch  her  two,  three  times,  but  de  reli- 
gion ain't  switched  out  of  her  yit.  I  can't  stand  it, 
Master,  indeed  I  can't.  I's  afeard  I'll  drown  myse  f, 
and  you'll  lose  dis  nigger  ef  you  don't  sell  me." 


18  ROEBUCK. 

"  You  have  your  eje  on  another  woman  at  Sqnire 
Anderson's." 

"  Lord,  Master,  I  have  never  spoke  to  his  Jinny, 
but  once." 

"  I  understand  you,  Ben.  You  are  tired  of  one 
wife  and  want  another.  You  are  man-ied  to  Nancy, 
and  have  two  children.  You  must  stay  with  her. 
You  make  religion  an  excuse  to  quarrel  with  her. 
You  must  treat  her  as  a  good  husband  ought,  and 
she  shall  behave  herself  as  a  good  wife.  If  you 
switch  her  again  I'll  direct  the  overseer  to  switch 
you.     Go  to  your  work.     Begone  !" 

Another  police  case  came  before  the  Colonel  the 
same  day,  that  may  be  worth  reporting,  as  the  sub- 
ject of  it  will  appear  again  in  this  narrative.  On  this 
occasion  he  came  running  up  from  a  ravine  to  inter- 
cept his  master  as  he  rode  along.  He  was  a  tall  fel- 
low with  a  powerful  frame  and  a  bullet-head.  On  his 
head  he  wore  nothing  but  a  circular  fringe  of  rav- 
elled straw  which  had  been  the  rim  of  a  hat.  Even 
this  he  doffed  as  he  approached  his  master. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Juba?" 

"  I's  jis  gwine  to  find  you,  Master." 

"  Where  do  you  come  fi'om  now  V 

"  From  de  bush,  Master,  dat's  de  truth." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  the  bush  V 

"  Mighty  nigh  on  to  three  days." 

"  Why  did  you  run  away,  Juba  ?" 

"  'Case  de  overseer  was  gwine  to  whip  me." 

"  Didn't  you  deserve  a  w^hipping?" 

*'  I  reckon  I  did.  Master,  but  I  don't  like  to  be 
whipped  by  dat  overseer  no  how.  He's  come  of  a 
mighty  mean  family  of  poor  white  folks  and  he  don't 
know  how  to  treat  niggers." 


ROEBUCK.  19 

"  You  are  impudent,  Juba.  Don't  you  think  you 
ought  to  be  whipped  now  V 

"  Sartin  I  ought.  But  now,  Master,  would  you  jis 
please  to  switch  me  yourse'f— jis  dis  once,  Master." 

"  No,  Juba  ;  go,  ask  the  overseer  to  come  here." 

He  obeyed  and  soon  returned  with  the  overseer,  a 
man  not  so  tall  as  Juba,  but  of  stout,  athletic  frame. 

"Mr.  Iliggs,"  said  the  colonel,  "Juba  confesses 
that  he  deserves  to  be  punished  and  I  wish  him  to 
know  that  you  have  my  special  authority  and  request 
to  punish  him  now.  Please  attend  to  his  case  when 
you  have  time." 

"Now,  Master,  please  whip  me  yourse'f,  do;  I'll 
fetch  de  switches." 

Juba  ran  away  toward  a  wood  and  the  colonel  sup- 
posed he  was  taking  to  the  bush  again.  But  he  was 
soon  seen  returning  with  an  honest  bundle  of 
switches  in  his  hand.  While  he  was  absent,  the  ovei*- 
seer  said ; 

"  Colonel  Fairfax,  it  seems  useless  to  whip  Juba. 
lie  is  a  strange  fellow.  I  have  had  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  ^♦ith  him,  and  have  tried  every  way  I  could 
think  of  to  manage  him.  He  is  a  capital  hand  to 
work  when  he  is  in  the  humor,  but  he  pays  no 
respect  to  my  authority.  He  is  very  proud  of  his 
strength,  and  sometimes  looks  at  me  as  if  he  was 
thinking  that  he  is  a  better  man  than  I  am.  One 
more  plan  to  bring  him  to  subjection  has  occurred  to 
me,  and,  if  you  have  no  objection,  I  will  try  it  on 
him." 

"  What  is  it  1" 

"  For  me  to  fight  him  on  equal  terms  and  whip 
him.  That  will  take  the  conceit  out  of  him  and  make 
him  respect  me." 


20  ROEBUCK. 

"  That  will  never  do,  Mr.  Iliggs." 

"  I  believe  nothing  else  will  do  with  Juba.'* 

"If  there  were  no  other  objection,  he  might  beat 
you." 

"  Then  you  will  have  to  get  another  overseer.  I  am 
willing  to  take  the  risk,  if  you  consent.  I  was  once 
active  and  had  some  skill  at  boxing.  I  am  older  now 
and  out  of  practice.     But  1*11  risk  it." 

The  colonel  shook  his  head  doubtfully  at  this  novel 
proposition,  but  Juba  came  up  and  he  merely  said, 
"  go  with  the  overseer  "  as  he  rode  away. 

"  Now,  Juba,"  said  Higgs,  "  lay  down  the  switches. 
You  will  need  your  fists.  You  must  figlit  me.  I 
give  you  a  white  man's  chance.     It's  a  lair  fight." 

"  Far  fi^ht '?  White  man's  chance  1  Soi'e  enousjh *?" 

"Yes,  that's  what  I  say." 

"Whoop I"  shouted  Juba  so  loud  that  he  Avas 
heard  by  some  of  his  fellow-servants  in  a  neighbor- 
ing field,  and,  leaning  on  their  hoes,  they  became 
epectators  of  the  scene. 

"  Get  ready,  Juba." 

" I's  always  ready  for  a  far  fight." 

"  Come  on,  then." 

Juba  was  not  slow  to  act  upon  tins  hint.  lie  made 
a  lunge  with  his  great  maul  of  a  fist  a*  the  overseer's 
face,  and  would  have  flattened  his  features  if  the  blow 
had  not  been  dexterously  parried.  Juba  opened  his 
eyes  with  wonder  to  see  that  so  much  force  had  done 
no  mischief.  He  repeated  the  efibrt  several  times 
with  little  variation  and  with  no  better  success.  Then 
the  overseer  in  turn  began  to  plant  his  blows.  He 
struck  Juba  on  the  head — his  least  vulnerable  part — 
and  Juba  fell  flat  on  the  grass.  He  rose  and  came  to 
the  scratch  again,  but  almost  instantly  he  measui-ed 


ROEBUCK.  21 

Ins  length  upon  the  ground.  He  took  a  third  fall,  but 
then,  Avhen  he  rose,  he  turned  his  back  upon  his 
adversary  and  took  to  his  heels.  He  did  not  stop 
until  he  joined  the  laborers  in  the  adjoining  field. 
He  there  seized  a  hoe  and  went  to  work  without 
saying  a  word.  After  a  long  time  he  looked  round 
and  said  with  a  rueful  grin  :  i 

"  Dat  ain't  such  a  mean  overseer  after  all ;  I  reckon 
Eis  folks  is  pretty  decent  for  poor  white  folks." 

In  the  meantime  Colonel  Fairfax  passed  into  a  field 
where  a  dozen  slaves  were  at  work  under  the  lead  of 
one  of  their  own  class,  who  acted  as  headman  of  the 
gang."  He  was  a  cotemporary  of  the  colonel,  and 
they  had  played  together,  and  sometimes  fought  too, 
when  they  were  boys.  As  he  remained  a  boy  all  his 
life,  and  would  have  protracted  also  the  boyhood  of 
his  master,  he  continued  to  call  him  "  Master  Fred." 
His  nose  Avas  like  a  pack-saddle.  He  was  short,  and 
though  not  corpulent,  his  head,  face,  body  and  limbs 
were  all  round,  and  his  plump  little  figure  might  have 
been  rolled  about  like  a  ball.  He  was  called  Joe. 
With  the  bland  serenity  of  ancient  and  undisputed 
authority,  he  led  a  bevy  of  sleek,  well-fed  negroes, 
who  whistled  or  sung  at  their  labor,  quite  satisfied 
with  theu*  prospective  share  of  the  products  of  the 
plantation.  When  the  colonel  approached  Joe,  took 
off  his  hat  and  saluted  him  with  a  grave  bow,  saying, 
"  your  sarvant,  Master  Fred." 

•'  How  goes  it,  Joe,  and  how  do  you  get  on  with 
the  work  to-day  1" 

"  Mighty  well,  sir  ;  de  boys  is  workin*  up  lively  to- 
day, lively,  Master  Fred.  But  I  bin  thinkin',  sir, 
maybe  you'd  allow  old  Joe  to  'spress  his  'pinion  on 
dis  'ere  corn-plantin'  subjec'." 


22  ROEBUCK. 

"  Certainly,  Joe,  I  would  like  to  hear  your 
opinion." 

'•  Den,  Master  Fred,  my  'pinion  is  dat  dis  'e**e  way 
of  2)lantin'  corn,  what  the  overseer  is  gwine  to  make 
us  plant  corn,  is  a  new  way,  and  it  ain't  the  way  the 
Fail-faxes  always  planted  corn,  and  my  'pinion  is,  sir, 
we  won't  git  no  crap." 

'*  Then,  Joe,"  replied  his  master,  laughing,  "  you 
think  we  ought  to  plant  corn  still  just  as  the  Fair- 
faxes did  when  you  were  a  chap  ?" 

"Well,  my  'pinion  is,  Master  Fred,  dat  a  family  as 
old  as  ourn  oughtn't  to  take  up  with  these  new  ways 
of  the  upstarts — no  offence  to  the  overseer,  sir." 

"  The  Fau'faxes,"  said  the  colonel,  lauo^hinc:  asrain, 
"  were  always  a  very  good  family,  Joe,  since  you  and 
I  knew  them,  and  in  the  ways  of  honor  and  duty  we 
cannot  do  better  than  follow  their  examples.  But  as 
to  planting,  perhaps  we  may  learn  something  by  ex- 
perience which  they  did  not  know.  The  fact  is,  this 
new  way  is  one  of  my  own,  Joe." 

"  Oh,  dat's  another  thing.  Master  Fred.  You's  one 
of  the  same  old  Fau-faxes  yourse'f,  and  you  has  a 
right  to  think  for  yourse'f  and  for  your  folks  too. 
I's  got  no  'pinion  on  dat  subjec'  cf  it's  your  subjec', 

BU\" 

The  colonel  was  about  to  ride  away,  when  Joe  sig- 
nified by  a  respectful  gesture  that  he  had  something 
more  to  say.  . 

"  What  else,  Joe  ?"  he  asked.  1 

"  One  of  my  gang — it's  roundhead  Bill — says  he's 
got  two  childi'en  over  his  patch.  Master  Fred,  and  he 
wants,  ef  you  please,  to  git  his  patch  made  up  to  liis 
family." 

"Is  that  so.  Bill?" 


ROEBUCK.  23 

"  Yes,  Master,  I  done  got  two  'sponsibilities  since 
you  give  clat  patch,  and  I  most  'spectin'  another." 

"  Very  Avell,  Bill ;  your  patcli  shall  be  enlarged  to 
fit  your  responsibilities." 

"  Thank  you,  Master,"  said  roundhead  Bill. 
"  Bill  is  a  mighty  good  boy,  Master  Fred,"  added 
Headman  Joe ;  "  he's  worth  twelve  hundred  dollars 
dis  blessed  day  ;  dat  is,  ef  you  was  a  gentleman  would 
sell  a  sarvant  while  he  behaves  hese'f." 

AYhen  he  had  moved  away,  the  colonel  saw  a 
young  lady  riding  at  a  canter  across  the  fields 
towards  him  on  a  white  horse  of  high  spirit  and 
beautiful  form.  She  was  followed  by  a  gentleman 
who,  in  turn,  was  followed  by  a  servant.  "  There," 
said  the  colonel  to  himself,  '•  comes  Julia,  worrying 
lier  Uncle  Dick  with  a  gallop  over  plowed  ground." 
He  gazed  at  her  with  affectionate  pride,  and  his 
cheerful  face  beamed  with  a  smile.  "  What  are  you 
after,  brother  Dick?"  he  exclaimed,  as  they  drew 
near. 

*'  After  Colonel  Julia,  of  course.  She  would  make 
a  cavalry  raid  on  the  village  this  morning,  and  I  had 
to  follow  my  colonel." 

It  was  one  of  his  whims  to  call  her  colonel,  as  the 
destined  heir  of  an  estate  which  shoaild  always  have 
a  Colonel  Frederick  for  its  proprietor,  according  to 
the  customary  law  of  descent  in  the  lamily.  In  de- 
fault -of  a  Colonel  Frederick,  he  dubbed  the  niece 
wiiom  he  admired  and  ioved,  "Colonel  Julia." 

"=  Papa,"  she  said,  "  your  big  brother  and  I  have 
come  to  take  you  home.  We  think  yo-u  have  done 
work  eiiougli  while  we  were  at  play.  Uncle  Dick 
says  he  inleuds  to  preach  up  a  new  abolition  society 
for  thu  emancipation  of  masters." 


24  ROEBUCK. 

"  Certainly,"  the  doctor  added,  "  the  masters  are 
C  the  real  objects  of  compassion  in  this  peculiar  institu- 
tion of  oui's.     My  heart  bleeds  for  them.    Behold  me, 
an  apostle  of  emancipation,  and  be  the  first  of  the 
wretches  I  am  to  rescue." 

\  "What,  brother  Dick,"  said  the  colonel,  "liave 
''  you  done  with  your  old  theory  that  the  negroes  have 
the  natural  right  to  be  slaves  and  therefore  to  liave  i 
masters,  servitude  being  necessary,  as  you  have  often 
affirmed,  for  their  prcb'-ervation  and  happiness  accord- 
ing to  the  constitution  of  natm-e  ?" 

'"  I  have  thrown  up  the  constitution  of  nature  and 
taken  to  ab<?litionist  tracts.  But  I  improve  on  the 
plan  of  the  abolitionists.  I  am  convinced  that  the 
emancipation  of  masters  is  the  shortest  way  to  the 
grand  result." 

"Pray,  what  is  to  be  this  grand  result?" 

"The  extinction  of  the  negro  race  on  this  con- 
tinent." 

"  That  is  desu-able,  is  it  ?"  said  the  colonel,  laugh- 
ing. 

"  Root  out  the  blacks  and  you  know  we  shall  have 
a  more  intelligent  and  profitable  set  of  laborers." 

"  But  humanity,  my  big  brother  I" 

"  Nonsense,  my  little  brother  I  Humanity  was  in 
last  year's  almanac.  It  is  out  of  date.  Abolition 
takes  its  place  this  year.  Free  the  negroes  1  Perish 
mankind!  Come,  Julia,  you  shall  turn  lecturer. 
What  will  a  humanitarian  society — humanitarian. 
mai-k  you,  not  humane — be  worth  unless  it  turns  the 
world  topsy-turvy  and  makes  women  periorm  the 
functions  of  men  V 

"  Will  you  emancipate  me  without  my  wife  ?" 
asked  the  Colonel.     "  She  is  a  greater  slave  to  our 


ROEBUCK.  25 

clepemdents  than  I  am.  See,  tliere  she  goes  now  to 
that  cabin,  probably  to  look  after  a  sick  child  or  to 
render  some  other  service  to  her  numerous  family." 

"  Xo  ;  it  is  useless  to  offer  freedom  to  women. 
They  all  rush  into  matrimony,  the  most  galling  kind 
of  bondage.     Let  them  alone." 

"  Begone,  you  heathen,"  said  Julia,  flourishing  her 
ridinoc-s  witch. 

*'  Yes,  I  am  a  heathen  and  a  republican — I  confess 
all  my  sins  at  once.  Ostentatious  confession  is  a  trick 
of  the  Pharisees  whom  I  am  going  to  imitate.  It  is 
a  proclamation  of  humility — a  proud  virtue." 

"  Ah,  brother  Dick,  you  jest,  but  these  negroes  are 
the  poor  whom  we  have  always  with  us." 

"  Unless  they  run  away." 

"  T\^ell,  if  they  run  away  from  their  homes  we  must 
pity  their  folly.  And  here  comes  Dainty  Dave. 
What  place  will  there  be  for  him  in  your  new 
scheme  V* 

"  A  fellow  you  have  ruined  and  made  a  fool  of  by 
discharging  him  from  all  labor  because  once  upon  a 
time  " 

"  He  saved  my  dear  daughter's  life  by  an  act  of 
devoted  courage  when  our  old  house  was  burnt." 

"  Be  it  so.  Plere  he  comes  riding  his  fat  mule  and 
dressed  fantastically,  as  usual.  Where  are  you  going, 
Dave  ?" 

Before  answering  Dave  lifted  his  high-crowned 
hat  from  his  head  and  three  times  bowed  profoundly 
over  the  mule's  neck,  saying,  "  sarvant,  Master  ;  sar- 
vant,  Miss  Julia  ;  sarvant.  Master  Dick."  Straighten- 
ing himself  up,  he  gravely  added  :  "  I'm  gwine  to  be 
waxinated,  sir." 

"  Vaccinated  ?  Are  you  afraid  of  taking  small- 
pox t"  ^ 


26  ROEBUCK. 

"No,  Master  Dick,  but  dei'e  is  a  clirty  nij^ger  on 
dis  plantation  wat's  got  de  itch.  I  reckon,  ef  de 
small-pox  is  de  killingest  'stemper  of  dera  two,  w'at 
will  keep  off  dp  small-pox  will  keep  off  de  itch." 

"  You  draw  conclusions,  Dave,  with  the  force  of  a 
a  mule.     You  ought  to  be  a  doctor." 

"  Same  as  you,  Master  Dick  ?"  said  Dave  with  an 
impudent  leer  in  his  eyes,  sheltered  by  the  projecting 
gravity  of  his  lips.  The  doctor  rode  at  him  with  a 
threatening  gesture  and  Dave  rapidly  receded  IVoin 
the  scene. 

"Yes,  Julia,"  said  the  doctor,  "there's  your  own 
maid,  Grace,  you  make  a  fool  of  her  too  with  your 
•indulgence  and  your  presents  and  finery  and  all  that." 

"But,  Uncle  Dick,  she  loves  me  so  truly  and  then 
we  were  play-mates  in  childhood,  you  know.  She  is 
really  a  good  girl  and  altogether  devoted  to  me." 

"  Fudge  !  She  will  run  away  the  first  time  she  ha^ 
a  chance — for  that  I'll  v/ager  my  horse  against  your 
switch." 

"  Never,  Uncle  Dick." 

"You  will  find  there  is  a  great  deal  of  human 
nature  in  these  negroes  when  they  are  free  to  show 
it." 

"TVTiat  do  you  think  of  that,  Caleb?"  said  Julia, 
turning  towards  the  servant  who  followed  Doctor 
Fairfax,  and  who  now  sat  in  stately  lashion  on  liis 
horse  near  them.  He  was  di'essed  quite  foppishly, 
though  his  master  was  rather  slovenly.  Caleb  pro- 
nounced his  opinion. 

"  Miss  Julia,  when  extremes  meet,  the  ebullition  of 
human  nature  explodes  in  a  cataclasm  of  tlie  ele- 
ments." 

"  There,  now,"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  "  Caleb  gives 
opinions  tl^at  cannot  be  refuted,  because  they  cannot 


ROEBUCK.  27 

be  understood.  There  is  matter  in  his  words,  no 
doubt,  if  we  had  the  Avit  to  find  it.  There  is  a  fellow, 
Colonel  Ju'lia,  who  has  served  rao,  man  and  boy,  more 
than  forty  years,  and  in  all  that  time  he  has  not  ut- 
tered an  intelligible  sentence  or  failed  of  a  single 
duty.     lie  is  the  best  servant  I  ever  saw." 

Caleb,  accepting  the  praise  as  customary  and  due, 
replied  to  the  doctor. 

"  Master,  if  you  would  investigate  the  collateral  in- 
heritance of  my  signification,  you  would  see  that 
virtue  is  the  better  half  of  wisdom." 

"  Why,  where  did  you  filch  that  apothegm  ?  I  did 
not  know  that  I  ever  entertained  a  sewtentious  philo- 
sopher, though  gentlemen  do  sit  at  my  table  some- 
times who  supply  you  with  sesquipedalian  phrases. 
NoW)  Julia,  there  is  a  long  word  that  he  will  lug  in 
the  next  time  he  discourses  to  the  servants." 

"  Pardon,  Master,  I  never  talk  the  high  English  to 
the  niggers.  Their  craniums  is  so  transfigured  by 
the  burnished  livery  of  the  burning  sun  that  they 
cannot  prefigure  the  sentiments." 

"  Come  away,  Julia  ;  we  shall  need  an  ark  to  save 
us  from  a  deluge  of  words  if  we  remain  here." 

"  Will  you  go  with  us,  papa  ?" 

"  Not  yet ;  I  will  follow  you  in  a  short  time." 

"  Remember,  brother  Fred  1  Ko  more  talk  of  hu- 
manity in  relation  to  your  betters.  The  negro  is  not 
only  a  man  and  a  brother,  but  the  elder  brother  of 
the  human  fiimily.  I  am  sure,"  he  muttered  as  he 
rode  ofi;  "  nature  learned  on  the  negro,  before  she 
made  the  white  man,  and  a  black  botch  she  made  of 
her  first  experiment — a  mere  mud-pie." 

"  Come,  Arab,"  said  Julia,  touching  her  horse,  and 
he  galloped  away,  Doctor  Dick  following  at  his 
heels. 


28  ROEBUCK. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

VISITORS     AT     ROEBUCK. 

Fro:m  tlie  country  road  or  highway  a  broad  avenno 
half  a  mile  in  length  led  up  to  a  gate  below  the  bluff 
in  front  of  the  mansion  of  Roebuck.  On  cacli 
side  of  the  avenue  was  a  row  of  lorabardy  poplars — 
tall  pointed,  steeple-like  trees,  but  already  stricken  at 
top  with  that  early  decay  which  afflicts  those  aspiring 
favorites  of  the  last  generation.  When  Julia  touched 
Arab  with  her  switch  two  young  gentlemen  were 
meeting  at  the  entrance  of  the  avenue. 

"  Good  morning,  ?>Ir.  Palmer." 

^'  Good  morning,  Mr.  Fitzhugh." 

At  the  same  moment  tliey  turned  the  heads  of  their 
horses  and  rode  together  between  the  poplars.  At 
first  they  talked  of  the  weather,  then*  horses  and  other 
trite  or  trivial  matters,  and,  while  their  conversation 
is  unimportant,  there  will  be  time  to  describe  them. 

They  were  about  the  same  age,  of  twenty-six  or 
seven,  and  were  both  handsome  and  tall ;  but  Fitz- 
hugh was  not  quite  as  tall  as  his  companion  ;  the  for- 
mer had  dark  hair,  eyes  and  complexion,  and  those  of 
the  latter  were  light.  The  di-ess  of  Palmer  was  fash- 
ionable and  precise ;  that  of  Fitzhugh  genteel  but 
iieo-lio-ent.  As  horsemanship  is  the  passion  of  all 
classes  in  Virginia,  but  especially  of  gentlemen,  they 
were  both  Avell  mounted.  The  horse  of  the  dark- 
haired  rider  was  black,  of  moderate  size  and  evidently 


y  ROEBUCK.  29 

of  fine  blood,  Tvliile  he  of  the  f;iir  complexion  rode  a 
stouter  animal  of  chesmit  color.  Palmer's  features 
were  exactly  regular  and  without  an  apparent  blemish, 
except  that  his  ligiit  blue  eyes  displayed  rather  too 
much  white.  They  expressed  no  decided  character, 
and  even  the  doubtful  negation  of  expression  might 
signify  either  apathy  or  prudence,  and  his  face  might 
be  a  mask  or  a  mirror.  That  of  Fitzhugh  Avas  less 
regular  and  more  flexible  in  feature  and  it  was  more 
responsive  to  mind  and  heart.  Its  habitual  expres- 
sion was  one  of  dreamy  idleness.  But  it  caught  the 
change  of  every  j^assing  influence  so  readily  that  a 
stranger  might  have  suspected  his  character  of  levity 
if  another  nature  more  profound  had  not  been  indi- 
cated by  the  breadth  of  his  forehead,  the  depth  of  the 
eyes  and  the  firm  lines  of  the  mouth. 

"  There  goes  Miss  Fairfax  towards  the  house,"  said 
Palmer. 

"  And  her  uncle  with  her,"  added  Fitzhugh. 

'•  But  he  shall  not  assist  her  to  alight.  I  intend  to 
perform  that  service  myself" 

"  If  you  are  at  the  house  before  me,  you  may." 

"  Agreed." 

"  Show  him  your  heels.  Sultan,"  said  Fitzhugh,  and, 
at  a  touch  of  the  cane,  his  horse  bounded  away. 
Palmer  also,  humoring  the  banter,  put  spurs  to  the 
chestnut.  If  they  vvere  seen  at  all  by  Julia  and  her 
uncle,  they  were  soon  out  of  sight  as  they  approached 
the  bluff.  For  a  short  race  there  was  not  much  differ- 
ence in  speed  between  the  horses,  but  the  black  held 
the  start  he  had  taken.  Ar.  no  person  was  seen  at  the 
gate,  it  appeared  that  the  necessity  of  stopping  to 
open  it  would  end  the  race  and  set  the  riders  even. 
But  from  each  side  of  the  gate  ran  a  stone  wall  or 


80  ROEBUCK. 

fence,  about  four  feet  high.  Fitzhugh,  swerving  his 
horse  from  tlie  middle  of  the  ro<id  to  the  sward  at  the 
side,  came  up  to  the  fence  and  Sultan  cleared  it  at  a 
leap.  Palmer  declined  to  follow,  and  his  companion 
halting,  turned  and  waved  his  hand  with  a  good- 
humored  laugh.  He  waited  for  Palmer  to  pass 
through  the  gate  and  then  they  rode  together  up  the 
bluff.  Miss  Fairfax  had  already  dismounted  and  was 
not  to  be  seen.  The  gentlemen,  giving  their  bridles 
to  a  servant,  entered  the  house.  They  had  not  sat 
long  when  the  young  lady  made  her  appearance. 

For  some  minutes  the  cost  of  the  conversation  was 
defrayed  almost  exclusively  by  herself  The  thoughts 
of  her  visitors  were  so  engrossed  with  admiration  of 
her  beauty  that  they  talk&d  but  little.  They  had  often 
seen  her  before.  Fitzhugh  had  known  her  from  her 
infancy.  His  fimily  and  hers  had  long  been  neigh- 
bors and  intimate  friends.  The  acquaintance  between 
her  and  Palmer  was  of  some  years'  standing,  though 
it  was  little  more  than  fomial.  Neither  of  the  gen- 
tlemen professed  a  warmer  feeling  for  her  than  friend- 
ship ;  but,  in  her  presence,  they  felt  the  fiscination  of 
a  kind  of  beauty  always  new  and  surprising.  At 
length  they  found  their  tongues  and  for  half  an  hour  the 
conversation  flowed  fluently  enough.  They  talked  of 
neighborhood  news,  recent  pubiicatlons,  new  music 
and  a  variety  of  other  topics  of  transient  interest. 
Julia  had  the  pleasing  taleiit  of  her  sex,  and  her  con- 
versation, like  her  dress  and  manners,  had  the  unobtru- 
sive charm  of  simple  elegance.  Kot  from  any  parade 
of  learning  ar  accomplishments  could  it  be  discovered 
that  her  education  had  been  as  complete  as  wealth 
could  procure  for  her.  She  had  received  also  that 
better  education  which  girls  acquired  in  those  happy 


ROEBUCK.  31 

homes  in  Virginia  (happy  now  no  more  I)  where  gen- 
tle manners  were  framed  to  modesty  and  pnrity,  and 
where  chanlcters  were  attempered  to  the  duties  of 
life.  Palmer,  in  conversation,  was  sensible  but  for- 
mal. It  was  ap])arent  that  his  moderate  faculties  had 
been  carefully  cultivated  in  schools.  He  was  versed- 
in  the  fashions  and  affected  the  manners  of  cities. 
Ilis  imagination  was  dull  and  he  lacked  the  versatile 
and  various  ease  of  an  agreeable  t:ilker.  In  that  re- 
spect he  was  excelled  by  Fitzhugh  when  he  was  in 
his  lighter  mood  and  v/as  excited  by  congenial  com- 
pany. 

Julia,  being  requested  to  sing,  sat  at  the  piano  and 
sung  an  Italian  song  with  brilliant  operatic  music,  at 
the  desire  of  Palmer,  whosfe  musical  taste  had  re- 
ceived as  elaborate  culture  as  his  intellect ;  and  tlien 
she  sung  an  English  b!^'lad  to  gratify  Fitzhugh,  who 
was    aii^  enthusiastic   lover  of  melody,   but  without 
much  musical  science.     Her  skill  satisfied  the  judg- 
ment of  the.critic,  and  her  sweet  voice  thrilled  the" 
nerves  of  the  enthusiast.     One  of  the  gentlemen  then 
requested  her  to  sing  something  of  lier  own  selection. 
*'  Then  hearken,"  she  said,  "  for  I  am   going  to  sing 
you  a  song  with  a  moral — a  homely  little  song  that 
was  sent  to  me  the  other  day."     Whether  she  took 
it  up  by  accident,  or  chose  to  amuse  herself  with  the 
part  of  a  playful  moralist,  or  was  influenced  by  some 
thought  of  Fitzhugh,  who  was  settling  into  an   atti- 
tude^of  indolent  dreaming,  may  have  been  uncertaiu 
to   herself      She    esteemed    Hugh-  Fitzhugh   very 
highly,  and  treated  him  with  as  much  familiarity  as 
life-long  friendship   might  warrant   between  young 
persons^of  diiferent  sexes.     She  shared  the  regret  ot 
his  friends  that,  after  leaving  the  University  with  a 


82  ROEBUCK. 

brilliant  reputation,  and  traveling  in  Europe  a  year 
or  two,  he  seemed  to  have  given  himself  up  to  list- 
less idlei>«ess.  Not  even  the  estate  which  he  inherited, 
and  on  which  he  resided  wkh  his  widowed  motiier, 
appeared  to  engage  his  serious  attention.  Julia  often 
heard  her  father  express  a  fear  that  the  bright  pro- 
mise whith  his  young  friend  Hugh  had  given  would 
be  disappointed  through  mere  indolence  and  a  love 
of  idle  pleasures.  Vrhother  she  remembered  this  or 
not  at  the  moment,  she  sung  her  song  "  with  a 
moral  " — 

THE  SONG  OF  TPIE  BEE. 

In  sipping  sweets  and  kissing  flowers 

The  nimble-wingeJ  bee 
From  morn  till  night  beguiles  the  liours — • 

And  who  so  blithe  as  he? 
O,  might  we  pass  this  life  of  ours 

As  gaily  as  the  bee  ! 

From  every  flower,  with  every  kiss, 
A  treasure  sucks  the  bes, 

Kor  wastes  an  hour  in  idle  bhss — 
And  wha  so  rich  as  he? 

Thy  roaming  revels  come  to  this  — 
"  To  fill  tliy  hive,  O  bee. 

So  love  and  soag,  and  all  delighta 

Taut  cL-ar  ihe  sp'.rlt  free, 

May  sweeten  toilso.ne  days  and  nigiits 
That  store  the  hive  for  thee; 

But  life  ]&  naught  if  pleasure  blighta 
Its  fruit — for  man  or  bee. 


ROEBUCK.  33 

*'That  song,  I  am  sure,  was  sung  for  mo,"  re- 
marked Fitzhugh. 

''Does  it  please  you?"  asked  Miss  Fairfax. 

*'  The  moral,  not  the  music,  was  meant  ft^r  me." 

"Do  you  suspect  me,  then,  of  preaching  to  you  or 
at  you  1" 

*' Perhaps  it  may  turn  out  a  song, 
Perhaps  turn  out  a  sermon." 

"  And  why  do  you  take  it  as  a  sermon  rather  than 
as  a  song?" 

"  I  will  think  of  it,"  he  said,  musingly. 

*'  Do,  Mr.  Fitzhugh,"  she  replied,  in  a  tone  which 
seemed  at  once  to  apologize  for  the  candor  of  her 
sermon,  and  to  insinuate  an  interest  in  his  career. 

"  I  wish  so  fair  a  preacher  would  level  a  sermon  at 
me,"  said  Alfred  Palmer. 

"  If  I  am  suspected  of  such  presumption  I  must 
never  transs^ress  ao-ain,  Mr.  Palmer.  But  here  comes 
papa — and  Uncle  Dick  with  him,  too.  Between 
them  they  shall  teach  you  all  wisdom,  whether  the 
amiable  or  the  satirical." 

Colonel  Fairfjxx  met  the  young  gentlemen  with  a 
hearty  greeting,  and  the  doctor  said,  "  Brother  Fred 
and  I  have  just  had  a  pretty  quarrel  about  the  com- 
parative merits  of  your  horses,  gentlemen  ;  take  caro 
that  we  don't  finish  it  over  you." 

"  You  must  not  call  it  a  quarrel,"  said  the  colonel. 

"  Well,  a  discussion — the  milder  synonym." 

"  I  would  like  to  show  the  gentlemen  a  horse  of 
mine  ;"  and  the  colonel  was  about  to  dilate  upon 
horseflesh,  for  it  was  one  of  his  vanities,  and  the 
number  of  fine  horses  on  the  plantation  formed  one 

2* 


3-i  ROEBUCK. 

exception  to  the  jucticious  economy  of  his  manficre- 
ment.  But  he  checked  himself,  and,  gliding  with 
easy  urbanity  to  a  more  appropriate  subject,  he  led 
the  way  in  an  animated  conversation,  to  which  all 
present  contributed.  Julia,  who  always  showed  most 
vivacity  in  the  presence  of  her  amiable  and  cheerful 
father,  talked  with  sparkling  gaiety ;  the  guests  imi- 
tated her  vivacity,  and  Doctor  Dick  let  off  some 
squibs  at  intervals.  Colonel  Fairfax  was  fond  of  the 
society  of  young  people,  aud  they  enjoyed  his  frank, 
entertaining  and  intelligent  conversation.  The  young 
men  of  his  acquaintance  loved  him,  and  admu-ed  his 
character.  Hugh  Fitzhugh  had  been  accustomed 
from  boyhood  to  look  upon  him  as  his  best  friend, 
almost  as  a  guardian.  His  mother,  left  a  widow  with 
no  other  child  when  Hugh  was  very  young,  was  his 
legal  guardian,  but  Colonel  Fairfax  was  her  constant 
adviser.  Albert  Palmer  was  born  in  Kew  England, 
and,  though  he  had  lived  a  great  part  of  his  life  in 
Virginia,  had  no  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  fam- 
ily at  Roebuck. 

At  length  the  current  of  conversation  was  interrupt- 
ed by  Doctor  Fairfax,  who  remarked  abruptly,  "  that 
is  a  Yankee  horse  you  ride,  Mr.  Palmer — a  Yankee 
Morgan." 

"You  would  not  imply,"  said  Julia,  "that  he  is 
the  worse  for  a  Korthern  origin,  Uncle  Dick." 

'•  By  no  means  ;  I  like  the  Yankee-bred  Morgans." 

But  the  irritation  of  sectional  controversy  had  made 
men  sensitive  to  every  comparison  between  the  Xorth 
and  the  South,  and  the  most  inoflensive  allusions 
would  sometimes  rub  the  raw  and  provoke  resent- 
ment. Palmer  had  certain  reasons  for  being  more 
sensitive  than  others  when  he  suspected  that  a  slight 


R  0-E  BUCK.  85 

was  cast  upon  Ids  IsTorthern  birth,  and  the  abrupt 
manner  of  the  doctor,  which  startled  even  Julia,  had 
irritated  him.  He  said  with  asperity  :  "  you  are  mis- 
taken, sir.  I  am  a  true  Southerner.  I  use  nothing 
from  Yankcedom  that  I  can  obtain  in  the  South..  In 
fact,"  he  added  with  a  rising  voice,  "  I  despise  the 
Yankees." 

There  was  silence,  for  all  present  were  shocked  and 
embarrassed.  Virginians  cherish  the  love  of  native- 
land  with  romantic  fidelity.  Tliey  could  tolerate  in  a 
stra/iger  the  utmost  devotion  to  the  country  of  liis 
bii'th,  though  it  might  be  the  country  they  most  dis- 
liked. They  could  not  comprehend  the  contempt 
expressed  by  Palmer  for  the  land  of  his  nativity  and 
the  people  of  his  blood.  After  an  awkward  pause  the 
doctor,  who  delighted  to  abuse  the  "  Yankees,"  broke 
the  silence. 

"  Well,  since  the  Yankees  have  no  friends  here,  I 
will  air  my  opinions  of  tliem." 

"  Come,  Uncle  Dick,  be  charitable.  We  know  you 
keep  the  North  as  a  woman  keej^s  a  pin-cushion,  to 
Btick  pins  in." 

'''  Acer  tetigisti.  Colonel  Julia,  which,  being  inter- 
preted, signifies  that  you  are  as  sharp  as  one  of  your 
needles  this  morning.  But  I'll  balk  your  penetration 
this  time.  I  shall  use  none  but  a  blunt  instrument — 
a  mere  maul.  I  shall  simply  take  the  liberty  of  saying 
tliat  the  Yankees  are  the  meanest,  the  most  aiToo-ant 
the  most  hypocritical,  the  most  meddlesome  and  the 
i^ost  coiTupt  branch  of  the  human  family — if  I  must 
acknowledge  them  as  men  and  brothers." 

"  O  fie.  Uncle  Dick,  they  are  a  religious  people." 

"  Then-  rehgion  is  fox-fire,  a  superficial  light  from 
rottenness — theu-  morals  a  science  of  fraud.     Their 


36  ROEBUCK. 

credo  is  a  long  face  on  Sunday  and  a  long  purse  on 
week  days.  Their  water  of  baptism  is  water  of  pe- 
trifaction, turning  their  hearts  lo  stone.  Look  at 
those  three  thousand  preachers  who  petitioned  Con- 
gress recently — their  petition  was  a  howl  of  hato 
a-^ainst  the  South.  Wiien  they  stretch  out  their  holy 
hands  over  this  half  of  the  country,  theii*  benedictions 
are  bans  and  their  very  halleluiah  is  a  doxology  of 
devils.  They  have  almost  canonized  the  bones  of  old 
John  Brown,  a  robber  and  assassin,  because  they  were 
Southern  women  and  children  whom  he  would  have 
incited  negroes  to  murder  in  their  beds.  Like  priests, 
like  people.  The  better  class  of  preachers  at  the 
North  ai'e  ransacking  the  Apocalypse  to  prove  that 
the  end  of  the  world  is  at  hand,  and  they  confirm 
their  predictions  by  citing  the  unparalleled  depravity 
of  mankind — a  depravity  which  they  actually  see  at 
then*  own  doors,  though  it  is  not  seen  in  the  South." 

"But,  brother  Dick,"  interrupted  the  colonel, 
"those  are  only  then*  fanatics  whom  you  describe." 

"  They  di'own  the  voices  of  all  others.  And  then 
Yankee  politics — a  corrupt  despotism  of  demagogue^ 
— professing  but  one  principle,  the  rule  of  a  majority, 
and  practicing  but  one,  public  plunder.  Fanaticism, 
however,  will  soon  dominate  politics.  Already  most 
of  the  religious  societies  there  are  political  clubs. 
Priests  are  sure  to  be  the  tyrants  of  a  land  where 
pure  religion  does  not  prevail." 

"The  spirit  of  caricatm-e  runs  away  with  my  big 
brother  to-day,"  said  Colonel  Faufax,  laughing. 

"  Caiicatm-e !  What  I  say  is  as  true  as  daguerreo- 
t}^e." 

"  And  not  more  life-like,  I  dare  say,  Uncle  Dick." 

*'  Julia,  a  good  girl  like  you  cannot  imagine  such 


ROEBUCK.  37 

evils  as  polute  Northern  society.  Their  cities  are 
sinks,  their  towns  ape  their  cities  and  they  poison  the 
country.  They  abound  with  liauuts  where  men  have 
exerted  their  ingenuity  in  perfecting  vice  as  they  have 
elsewhere  in  improving  machinery.  What  is  their 
pociety — what  must  it  be  from  its  structure,  even 
aside  from  religion  and  politics?  A  confused  popu- 
lace struggling  for  wealth  or  life — a  perpetual  prize- 
fight, with  millions  in  the  ring— a  mob  without  gen- 
tlemen " 

"  Hold,  there,  brother  Dick,  you  won  t  say  there 
are  no  gentlemen  in  the  North,"  cried  the  colonel, 
laughing  at  the  doctor's  notions. 

"Gentlemen — yes,  many  of  them,  as  there  are 
many  good  Christians.  But  there  is  no  class  of  gen- 
try with  a  recognized  position  and  influence.  Here, 
you  know,  the  gentry,  rich  and  poor,  without  the 
support  of  unequal  laws,  exert  a  direct  and  legitimate 
influence  upon  the  movements  of  society  with  the 
open  approbation  of  the  people,  and  with  open  re- 
sponsibility, under  the  correction  of  public  opinion. 
There,  gentry  is  ostracised.  Wealth,  everywhere  a 
power,  rules  there  by  indirection  and  corruption.  It 
buys  the  press.  It  subsidizes  the  pulpit.  It  bribes 
the  demagogues.  It  corrupts  all  leaders  of  the  pub- 
lic. When  fanaticism  is  quiet,  the  force  that  rules 
the  Yankees  is  money  and  a  mob.  In  fact,  there  can 
be  no  gentry,  where  nothing  is  stable,  and  gold  is 
the  standard  of  all  worth.  Gentry  is  the  peculiar 
flower  of  an  old  agricultural  community,  where  nature 
shines  on  agriculture.     How" 

"  Pardon  me,  Uncle  Dick,  you  are  making  a 
speech." 

"  Heaven  forefend,   Colonel  Julia  ;    if  I  get  to 


38  ROEBUCK. 

speoch-malvin  Of,  I  j;hall  become  as  crreat  a  bore  as  a 
Yankee  professor,  a  superficial  coxcomb  who  lectui'es 
always,  about  everything  and — nothinij^." 

''  Breathe  a  while,  Uncle  Dick.  Papa,  I  have  not 
told  yon  th  ;:  I  saw  Mr.  Ambler  this  morning,  and 
invited  him  to  dine  with  us  to-d^y.  The  carriage 
has  been  "^     t  for  him,  and  he  should  be  here  soon." 

"  I  a,m  glad  of  it,  daughter.  Our  venerable  pastor 
is  always  a  welcome  guest.  You  must  remain  and 
dine  with  him,  gentlemen.  Do  not  refuse.  You 
know  the  good  old  clergyman,  and  you  must  enjoy 
his  society." 

Fitzhugh  accepted  the  invitation,  but  Palmer,  with 
a  polite  apology,  declined  it,  and  took  his  leave. 
When  the  conversation  was  resumed,  Fitzhugh 
said — 

*'  It  gratifies  me  to  infer.  Doctor  Fairfax,  that  you 
think  the  time  has  an-ived  when  we  should  dissolve 
our  political  connection  with  the  North." 

'   What !  follow  South  Cai^olina  in  secession  V* 

''  Certainly." 

"No." 

-  No  ?" 

"Never." 

"  You  amaze  me.  Would  you  prolong  our  asso- 
ciation with  such  communities  as  you  have  just  de- 
picted 7" 

"  I  have  not  read  in  any  book  of  surgery  that  to 
cut  off  the  head  is  a  safe  cure  for  tooth-ache." 

"  Do  you  think,  theft,  that  to  cut  ofiT  the  North  is 
to  cut  off  the  head  of  the  South  V 

"  No ;  you  are  too  literal  in  spelling  a  metaphor. 
Beit  secession  will  be  fatal  to  the  Southern  States. 
The  North  will  subjugate  them,  and  then  where  will 
be  youi-  remedy  V 


ROEBUCK.  39 

"  How  can  such  a  people,  figliiing  for  independ- 
ence, be  cojiquered  ?  They  would  be  exterminated 
first.  See  how  theh'  patriotic  zeal  already  burns  with 
martial  fire.  Many  men  pant  for  war  with  the 
North." 

"  I  have  heard  such  men  talk.  They  will  serve  as 
light-wood  to  kindle  a  revolution,  but  we  shall  need 
more  durable  fuel  to  keep  it  up.  The  bviith  is  not 
fanatical,  or  malignant,  or  corrupt  like  the  North,  but, 
Avhat  is  worse  in  view  of  such  a  conflict,  it  is  weak. 
It  is  weak  just  where  many  imagine  it  is  strong. 
Besides  the  obvious  disparity  of  numbers  and  mate- 
rial between  the  North  and  South,  consider  that  you 
would  link  Virginia  with  States  that  must  fixil  her 
in  a  long  and  exhaustive  war.  One  of  them  h^s  a 
gentry  and  no  people  ;  another,  a  people  and  no  gen- 
try, and  a  third,  neither  people  nor  gentry — neither 
body  nor  spirit.  Tiie  very  vices  of  the  Yankees  will 
contribute  to  their  cruel  success  in  such  an  enter- 
prise as  the  conquest  and  plunder  of  the  South. 
Think  you  I  would  provoke  a  horde  of  Northern  bar- 
barians to  overrun  Virginia  with  fire  and  sv/ord  V 

"  Shall  we,  then,  submit  to  oppression  through 
fear?  The  Northern  States,  as  you  have  described 
them,  are  unfit  associates  of  a  Commonwealth  like 
Virginia.  They  have  repeatedly  nullified  the  laws, 
and  broken  the  Federal  compact  in  points  essential 
to  our  security.  By  a  perversion  of  constitutional 
forms  they  have  seized  the  common  government  with 
an  avowed  design  of  wre^ing  its  tremendous  powers 
to  their  aggrandizement  and  our  oppression.  The 
wrongs  they  have  perpetrated  would  justify  war — 
much  more  simple  separation.  The  danger  that  we 
shall  lose  all  the  rights  of  our  States  if  we  acquiesce 


40  ROEBUCK. 

in  their  aggressions  is  manifest  and  imminent.  There 
appears  to  be  no  way  of  escape  from  it,  but  by  seces- 
sion. The  riglit  of  secession  is  clear.  The  right  of 
self-government  is  inalienable.  By  seceding,  Ave 
shall  give  no  just  cause  of  war.  I  hope  war  will  not 
come.  If  it  should  come,  I  believe  the  South  will 
not  be  conquered.  But,  whatever  maybe  the  pos- 
sible event,  it  is  better  in  such  a  cause  to  invoke  the 
justice  of  the  God  of  Battles,  than  tamely  to  await 
our  inevitable  doom  in  the  Union." 

Fitzhugh  had  risen,  and  while  he  spoke  his  eyes 
beamed  with  enthusiasm,  and  his  rich,  mellow  voice, 
swelled  into  a  tone  ratlier  too  oratorical  for  private 
conversation.  Suddenly  becoming  conscious  of  this, 
he  paused  and  turning  to  JuUa  said — "  pardon  me, 
Lliss  Julia,  I  am  making  a  speech." 

"  It  is  easy  to  pardon  the  warm  expression  of  patri- 
otic feeling,"  she  replied. 

"  Ah,  Hugh,"  observed  Colonel  Fairfax,  "  you  agi- 
tate a  perilous  question,  that  requires  for  its  solution 
eminent  wisdom  and  sobriety  of  judgment.  A  young 
gentleman  of  your  spkit  and  principles  naturally 
feels  indignant  at  the  wrongs  and  insults  which  om- 
States  have  suffered  from  a  portion  of  the  Xorthern 
people,  and  alarmed  at  the  danger  Avhich  threatens  us 
from  that  quarter.  The  amusing  caricatures  of 
Northern  society  which  have  been  sketched  by  my 
brother  are  not  without  a  partial  resemblance  to  truth. 
I  do  not  doubt  the  right  of  secession,  and  I  regard  it 
as  the  only  effectual  check  upon  the  Federal  govern- 
ment whenever  it  shall  become — as  all  governments 
are  liable  to  become — dangerous  to  liberty.  But  this 
is  not  our  whole  case.  Is  it  necessary  or  wise  to 
secede  now  ?   Will  secession  cure  the  ills  we  suffer  or 


ROEBUCK  41 

avert  the  dangers  we  fear  ?  Is  there  no  remedy  within 
the  Union  ?  Sliall  we  relinquish  all  the  advantages  of 
the  Union  without  further  efforts  to  preserve  it  while 
saving  also  our  rights,  honor  and  security  ?  The  Union 
is  very  dear  to  me.  I  have  been  taught  to  love  it  from 
my  cradle  upward.  As  Virginians,  we  should  cherish 
it  as  especially  the  work  of  our  fathers  and  the  monu- 
ment of  their  glory.  Secession  may  not  bring  war 
but  war  is  probable.  Subjugation  may  follow  with 
its  train  of  indescribable  horrors.  War  at  best — civil 
war  above  all — is  terrible.  Let  us  not  be  rash.  Let 
us  confide  a  little  longer  in  the  returning  reason  of 
our  Northern  brethren.  Let  us  look  and  wait  for 
some  milder  remedy  than  secession.  Let  us,  if  pos- 
sible, preserve  this  great  country  entire  and  not  afflict 
mankind  with  the  destruction  of  our  Union." 

"  Ought  Virginia,  then,"  inquired  Hugh  Fitzhugh, 
''  from  timidity  or  sentimental  recollections  to  lag 
behind  her  sister  States  in  the  assertion  of  riorht — in 
a  contest  for  independence  and  freedom  V 

"  Prudence,  my  dear  sir,  is  not  dishonorable ; 
neither  is  reluctance  to  abandon  a  system  which  has 
produced  vast  benefits.  I  have  no  fear  that  our  ven- 
erable Commonwealth  will  ever  be  dishonored  by  any 
act  of  her  own.  If  she  should — as  I  trust  she  may — 
restore  to  the  Union  the  seven  States  which  have 
seceded,  and,  at  the  same  time,  secure  the  rights  of 
aU  for  the  future,  tliat  will  be  a  work  worthy  of  her 
ancient  renown." 

"  But  will  the  fierce  passions  of  the  North  permit  it 
to  be  done '?" 

"  Forbearance,  statesmanship,  and  patient,  persever- 
ing effort  must  prove  whether  it  is  possible.  At  all 
events,  I  shudder  at  the  thought  of  breaking  up  the 


42  R  0  E  B  I'  C  5  . 

Union  until  every  lionorable  experiment  for  its  pre- 
servation has  been  tried  in  vain." 

"  But  su])pose,  Colonel  Fairfax,  that  while  Vircfinia 
is  endeavoring  to  restore  the  integrity  of  the  Union, 
the  Federal  government  should  attempt  to  reduce  the 
seceding  States  to  obedience  by  force  ?" 

"  Then  we  must  fight.  An  attempt  to  subjugate 
those  States  by  arms  after  what  has  happened  Avill 
annul  all  claims  of  the  Federal  government  upon  the 
support  of  any  Virginian  or  any  friend  of  Republican 
liberty.  Liberty  cannot  survive  a  triumph  of  Fede- 
ral force  in  such  a  contest.  No  State  can  be  ueutral 
If  the  North  constrains  Virginia  to  fight  for  or  against 
the  South,  she  must  fight  for  the  South  at  eveiy  haz- 
ard. Then  secession  will  become  a  secondary  ques- 
tion. War  will  be  the  first.  We  cannot  aid  in  the 
subjagatlon  of  our  sister  States." 


II  O  E  B  U  CMC  .  48 


CHAPTER  IV. 

TABLE-TALK     AT     ROEBUCK. 

TiiR  carriage  returned,  bringing  the  Rev.  Charles 
Ambler.  He  was  nearly  fourscore  years  of  age.  His 
hair  was  white  and  his  appearance  venerable,  but  his 
form  was  erect  and  his  step  firm.  His  keen  grey 
eyes,  dimmed  but  not  bleared  by  age,  his  aquiline 
nose  and  his  square  chin  expressed  decision  of  char- 
acter, and  saved  his  mild  demeanor  from  a.  charge  of 
apathetic  dullness.  In  early  life  he  was  a  successful 
lawyer.  Then  he  served  as  a  captain  of  volunteers  in 
the  last  war  with  England.  Afterwards,  from  con- 
scientious motives,  he  became  a  student  of  divinity, 
and,  in  due  time,  a  minister  of  the  gospel.  For  more 
than  forty  years  his  life  as  a  clergyman  was  one  of 
apostolic  poverty,  of  active  usefulness  and  modest 
godliness.  He  shunned  the  sanctimonious  alTecta- 
tions  by  which  some  preachers  advertise  themselves 
as  ready-made  saints.  His  goodness  became  known 
by  its  fruits. 

Soon  after  he  had  been  received  w^ith  respectful 
salutation  by  Colonel  Fairfax,  and  the  other  persons 
present  had  exchanged  greetings  with  him,  Mrs. 
Fairfax  joined  the  company.  After  expressing  to 
the  clergyman  her  pleasure  at  his  visit,  she  said— - 
*•  Julia  tells  me  that  you  would  hardly  leave  your  war- 
den to  dine  with  us." 

"  I  confess,  my  dear  madam,"  he  replied,  "  I  was 


44  ROEBUCK. 

inclined  to  linger  amoncr  my  plants  and  Ho-wor-beda 
this  tine  spring  day  it'  I  could  have  resisted  the  fair 
Julia.  But,  you  know,  from  the  beginning  the 
■woman  has  had  a  knack  of  turning  the  man  out  of 
the  garden." 

"  When  I  tempted  you  with  mamma's  dinner,"  strld 
Julia,  "  I  felt  sure  that  you  were  well  acquainted  with 
the  wu/  back  to  Paradise." 

"  I  see,"  said  the  doctor,  "  it  is  now  as  it  was  of 
old — the  man  lays  the  blame  on  the  woman." 

"And  the  story  runs,"  replied  Mr.  Ambler,  laugh- 
ing, "  that  you,  doctor,  are  more  impartial,  and  lay 
blame  on  everybody." 

"My  big  brother  was  fairly  hit  then,"  said  the 
colonel. 

"  What  I  Have  I  the  character  of  a  common 
scold '?  I  will  reform  forthvrith,  under  the  rebuke  of 
my  pastor." 

"Xay,  brother  Dick,"  said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  "that 
character  is  one  Avhich  your  gallant  sex  as.signs  to 
ours  exclusively." 

'•  But  that,  I  maintain,  is  a  slander,"  cried  Hugh 
Fitzhugh. 

"  You  shall  be  the  favored  champion  of  dames  and 
damsels,"  said  Julia. 

"  When  I  have  learned  the  lesson  of  the  bee  V* 
"  Forgive  me  ;  I  did  not  think  the  bee  could  leave 
a  sting.     I  see  to-day  that   you  anticipate  stirring 
times,  and  your  soul  is  already  stirred." 

"  I  would  not  be  idle  when  my  native  Sl:ate  ia  in 
danger." 

After  some  further  conversation  dinner  was  an- 
nounced. The  good  cheer  and  generous  hospitality 
of  Virginians  are  proverbial.     Of  course,  they  were 


ROEBUCK.  45 

not  dishonored  by  the  Fairfaxes  of  Roebuck.  The 
table  exliibited  the  tempting  abundance  common 
to  the  country,  and  a  costly  elegance  peculiar  to  the 
rich.  Colonel  Fairfax  was  an  observer  of  all  gene- 
rous usages,  and  considered  the  honor  of  his  family 
engaged  to  excel  in  hospitality.  He  valued  the  sil- 
ver upon  his  table  chiefly  because  the  gi-eater  part  of 
it  had  been  upon  the  tables  of  his  ancestors.  He  was 
himself  temperate  in  all  things,  but  he  dined  with  a 
healthy  appetite,  stimulated  by  active  employment, 
and  he  took  his  wine,  not  exclusively  for  the 
stomach's  sake,  but  to  make  glad  the  heart.  So  far 
was  he  from  moroseness,  that  he  thought  pleasure  to 
be  the  playmate  of  virtue,  though  excess  is  the  hand- 
maid of  vice. 

When  the  viands  ceased  to  hold  the  tirst  place  in 
the  attention  of  the  company,  and  conversation  be- 
gan to.  range,  a  remark  of  Mrs.  Fairfax  gave  occasion 
to  some  reflections  of.  Mr.  Ambler  upon  the  social 
condition  of  Vu-ginia.  "  I  believe,"  he  said,  "  there 
is  not  a  happier  or  better  community.  Nature  has 
been  bountiful  to  our  people,  but  not  prodigal ;  re- 
warding industry,  but  not  dispensing  with  exertion  ; 
bestowing  health,  and  requiring  vigor.  Fortunate 
circumstances  make  agriculture  our  chief  occupation, 
but  also  render  commerce  and  the  arts  profitable  to 
those  who  prefer  them.  There  is  wealth  enough  for 
leisure  to  cultivate  the  higher  faculties,  and  yet  even 
the  rich  among  us  are  incited  to  lead  active  lives  un- 
der the  open  sky.  Property  is  so  diffused  that  the 
scale  is  gradual  from  the  richest  to  the  poorest.  Even 
the  poorest  seldom  turn  beggars  or  thieves,  for  pov- 
erty here  is  neither  extreme  nor  hopeless.  Content- 
ment is  almost  universal      Perhaps  the  pressure  of 


U  K  O  E  B  r  C  K  . 

necessity  is  scarcely  sufficient  to  stimulate  as  rapid 
improveiiicnt  in  useful  arts  as  we  might  rationally 
desire.  3Iorals  are  generally  simple  and  pure. 
Truth,  honesty  and  mutual  good-will — the  main  ele- 
ments of  morality — are  Qreneraliy  enforced  by  usage 
and  opinion.  Even  the  blacks  have  been  raised  to  a 
degree  of  well-being  and  of  virtue  hitherto  unknown 
to  theh'  race.  They  really  seem  to  be  happier  in  their 
way  than  their  masters.  Most  of  the  -evils  which  ex- 
ist appear  to  be  common  to  mankind,  while  many  of 
our  blessings  are  peculiar  to  Virginia." 

"And  yet,"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  "the  Yankees 
are  eager  to  subvert  our  social  system  and  foist  upon 
us  their  superior  civilization  !  A  sordid  cizilization, 
glittering  with  a  thin  surfnve  of  gold-leaf — having 
circulating  gold  for  its  life-blood,  a  golden  calf  for  its 
God,  and  a  material  Xcav  Jei'usalem  witli  pavements 
literally  golden  for  the  heaven  of  its  hope.  A  cizili- 
zation in  which  men,  with  fierce  and  grasping  compe- 
tition, grovel  and  jostle  each  other  as  men  do  in  the 
gold-diggings.  Every  man  in  the  North  is  let  loose 
against  his  neighbor  to  become  victor  or  victim  in  a 
struggle  for  life.  Of  course,  all  society  becomes  mer- 
cenary, and  honors,  laws,  verdicts,  religion,  everything 
is  on  sale  in  the  vast  auction-mart.  But  because  the 
general  scramble  of  sordid  selfishness  assists  the  teem- 
ing fertility  of  a  new  continent  to  produce  cities  and 
palaces,  they  vaunt  their  vicious  civilization  as  the 
final  product  of  consummate  wisdom." 

"■  Let  us  be  cautious  as  well  as  candid,  my  dear  doc- 
tor," replied  Mr.  Ambler,  '•  in  passing  judgment 
upon  entire  communities.  In  those  of  the  North,  as 
in  others,  there  are  conspicuous  evils  which  are  easily 
censured.     Some  men  there  flaunt  their  follies  and 


n  O  E  B  r  C  K  .  47 

vices  before  the  world  with  singular  hardihoocl.  But 
my  acquaintance  with  the  Nortliern  people  has  not 
been  general  or  intimate  and  we  cannot  judge  them 
rightly  without  knowing  them  thoroughly.  Without 
such  knowledge,  it  is  fair  to  presume  that,  in  the 
main,  thoy  are  like  other  men — like  ourselves.  Re- 
numibei  how  we  have  been  traduced  among  them 
when  accidental  anomalies  have  been  culled  and  cari- 
catured as  charactei'istics  of  our  social  system.  Thus 
deplorable  animosities  have  been  kindled  and  fanned 
into  a  dangerous  flame.  We  should  not  repeat  tho 
error  in  censuring  them.  Charity  forbids  it,  and, 
since  mistakes  here  endanger  the  public  tranquility, 
prudence  and  patriotism  enforce  the  lesson  of 
charity." 

"  Is  it  wise  then,"  inquired  Mr.  Fitzhugh,  "  to  shut, 
our  eyes  to  the  faults  of  our  associates  when  they 
affect  om-  safety  ?  Should  we  not  consider  whether 
the  corruptions,  or  the  passions,  or  the  policy  of  the 
North  requires  us  to  dissolve  our  connection  with 
that  country  *?" 

"  A  truce ;"  cried  Mr.  Ambler,  "  since  the  conver- 
sation is  drifting  into  a  political  discussion,  I  must 
retreat  from  it.  Will  you  not  help  me  out  of  the 
scrape,  Julia?" 

"  I  hope  to  have  Miss  Julia  for  an  ally  in  support- 
ing my  political  opinions  upon  a  proper  occasion," 
said  Fitzhugh. 

'•  I  refer  you  to  papa  for  my  politics.  He  is  my 
political  conscience-keeper.  But  I  am  glad  to  second 
Mr.  Ambler's  desire  to  converse  upon  less  exciting 
topics ;  especially  as  I  have  wished  to  hear  the  con- 
clusion of  an  incident  which  he  had  begun  to  relato 
when  dinner  was  announced.     You  were  speaking, 


48  ROEBUCK. 

Mr.  Ambler,  of  a  companion  }-ou  had  in  the  carriage 
this  morning." 

"Yes;  you,  Colonel  Fairfax,  know  Abraham  Mar- 
lin,  the  cooper  ?" 

*•  Very  well ;  an  odd  character,  but  a  good  man  and 
a  good  mechanic." 

"Have  you  ever  heard  him  preach  1"  asked  the 
doctor. 

"  Preach  1"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Fairfax. 

"  Preach  or  exhort,  as  you  prefer.  lie  is  an  illiter- 
ate enthusiast  who  has  stumbled  into  a  sect  of  New- 
Lights  and  forthwith  taken  to  exhorting  his  neigh- 
bors. They  are  beginnmg  to  style  him  pas^oii,  I  am 
told." 

"  I  dare  say  he  is  a  worthy  man,"  mildly  observed 
Mr.  Ambler,  "  though  he  may  be  presumptuous.  In 
all  times  there  have  been  honest  men  who  felt  them- 
Belves  called  to  preach  religious  truth  because  their 
bouls  were  iired  with  religious  zeal." 

"  They  mistake  the  fever  of  fanaticism  for  inspira- 
tion,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Uncle  Dick,  I  fear  your  late  reform  needs  reform- 
ation." 

"  True,  Colonel  Julia ;  you  are  as  good  as  a  second 
conscience  to  me.  Since  you  are  not  satisfied  with 
my  reformation,  I  promise  not  to  reform  any  more — 
reform  myself,  I  mean." 

'•  However,"  continue#l  Mr.  Ambler,  "  it  was  not 
of  Marlin,  the  cooper,  that  I  was  about  to  sj^eak  par- 
ticularly, but  of  his  son,  Mark." 

"  Mark  Marlin — I  know  him  well,"  remarked  Hugh 
Fitzhugh ;  "  he  is  a  fine  young  fellow.  I  met  him 
first  in  hunting.  His  father  lives  in  a  cabin  on  a  small 
piece  of  land  at  the  foot  of  the  Ridge." 


ROEBUCK.  49 

**  Well,  as  I  came  from  the  vilLac^c  to-day  I  over- 
took a  youth  walking  on  the  road-side.  My  attention 
wns  attracted  by  his  fine  athletic  form  and  his  elastic 
step.  When  he  turned  his  face  to  me,  and,  raising 
his  hat,  saluted  me  with  the  title  of  passon  (my  dear 
doctor)  I  thought  his  countenance  displayed  more  in- 
telligence than  we  are  used  to  find  in  such  homely 
garb  as  he* wore  and  at  his  age,  for  he  could  not  be 
more  than  seventeen.  Curious  to  learn  something 
about  him  and  willing  to  give  the  pedestrian  a  lift  at 
the  expense  of  your  horses,  Mrs.  Fairfax,  I  invited 
him  into  the  carriage.  He  courteously  declined  at 
first,  but  when  I  asked  him  to  grant  me  some  conver- 
sation as  a  favor  to  me,  he  came  in.  I  soon  learned 
that  his  name  was  Mark  Marlin,  whose  father  I  knew 
slightly,  and  I  drew  him  on  to  such  other  disclosures 
as  might  enable  me  to  judge  of  my  duty  to  my  young 
neighbor." 

"We,  young  men,"  interposed  Plugh  Fitzhugh, 
"  have  to  thank  you  for  treating  us  all  as  sons  rather 
than  as  neighbors  only." 

"  It  is  one  of  my  pleasant  duties,  Hugh.  I  discov- 
ered that  Mark  had  an  acut«  intellect,  and  that  he 
had  reflected  much  on  some  of  the  knotty  problems 
of  life.  From  defect  of  education  his  ideas  were 
somewhat  confused  and  imperfectly  expressed.  I  saw 
that  he  had  some  ambition,  and  I  asked  him  what  he 
aimed  to  make  of  himself  as  a  man.  '  A  gentleman,' 
was  his  brief  and  ready  response.  I  endeavored  then 
to  gather  fi'om  his  talk  what  conception  of  a  gentle- 
man had  fired  his  youthful  ambition.  He  neither  de- 
fined nor  described  the  character,  but  simply  said— 
*  Colonel  Fred  is  the  sort  of  man.*     Thus,  you  per- 


50  ROEBUCK. 

ceive,  my  friend,  that  you  arc  the  model  of  our  youth 
— even  of  tlie  sons  of  our  mechanics.'" 

"  And  I  am  sure,"  Mrs.  Fairfax  began — 

"  Hush,  my  dear,"  erred  the  colonel  with  his  cheery 
laugh,  ''  if  you  open  your  lips  about  your  husband, 
"Mr.  Ambler,  as  a  faithful  pastor,  will  have  to  rebuke 
us  both  for  my  manifold  perfections.  At  present  I 
stand  charged  only  with  being  a  gentleman,  as,  of 
course,  I  am  bound  to  be." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  replied  with  a  look  such  as  loving 
wives  have  often  bestowed  on  worse  husbands,  and 
the  clergyman  proceeded — 

"I  reminded  Mark  that  Colonel  Fairfax  had  an 
ample  fortune,  which  secured  to  him  the  social  posi- 
tion of  a  gentleman.  He  looked  at  me,  and  said  with 
Bome  hesitation — 'you  are  not  rich,  but  you  are  a 
gentleman.'  I  could  not,  of  course,  repel  this  ar^u 
mentum  ad  homiiian.  But  I  observed  that  the  colonel 
sprang  from  an  ancient  family.  He  did  not  shrink 
from  the  reflection  implied  upon  the  humility  of  hie 
own  family,  but,  in  awkward  phrases,  went  on  to  say 
that  birth  obliged  Colonel  Fred  to  be  a  gentleman  in 
character  and  conduct,  while  it  secured  to  him  the 
consideration  due  to  a  gentleman  without  effort  on 
his  part  in  the  beginning.  '  But,'  he  added,  '  a  poor 
man,  and  the  son  of  a  poor  man,  in  a  free  countiy, 
can  rise  to  a  gentleman's  place  if  he  behaves  like  a 
gentleman.'  He  thought  that  wealth  would  help  him 
to  his  object,  but  he  had  a  suspicion  that  the  ways  by 
which  men  get  rich  suddenly  are  unfriendly  to  the 
sentiments  and  habits  that  should  distinguish  a  gen- 
tleman. He  believed  it  would  be  better  to  aim  at 
one  of  those  professions  which  people  look  up  to  as 
carrying  the  idea  of  social  rank.     If  we  should  have 


ROEBUCK.  51 

a  war  in  which  it  would  be  creditable  to  volunteer, 
he  would  be  inclined  to  go  as  a  soldier,  and  fight  his 
way  up  to  a  commission,  as  that  would  entitle  him  to 
the  position  of  a  gentleman,  and,  for  the  character  of 
a  gentleman,  he  would  keep  Colonel  Fred  in  mind  as 
his  model.  Besides,  he  said,  he  was  studying  books 
at  home  every  evening  after  his  day's  work  was  done. 
The  conversation  by  which  these  thoughts  were 
brought  to  light,  one  after  another,  occupied  the  time 
until  we  came  to  the  end  of  the  avenue.  Mark  then 
left  me,  after  promising  to  visit  me  at  the  par- 
sonage." 

"  I  hope,"  said  the  Colonel,  ''  he  will  prove  to  be 
worthy  of  the  care  which  I  foresee  you  will  bestow 
on  the  development  of  his  character." 

"  Can  you  doubt  it,  brother  Fred,  when  you  remem- 
ber his  model  ?" 

"  I  will  be  surety  for  him,"  said  Hugh  Fitzhugh, 
*'  though  I  believe  Mr.  Ambler,  after  a  single  half- 
hour's  ride  with  him,  knows  him  better  than  I  do. 
In  tracing  the  springs  of  his  conduct,  Mr.  Ambler, 
you  have  shown  an  art  which  I  do  not  possess." 

"  I  learned  something  of  that  art  in  my  first  pro- 
fession, the  law,  and  I  have  learned  the  best  uses  of 
it  in  my  present  profession." 

"  Have  you  heard  what  happened  last  night  to  oui 
neighbor  Eckles'?"  inquired  Colonel  Fairfax. 

''  I  have  not.     What  was  it  ?" 

"  Eckles,  you  may  know,  has  for  some  time  been 
excluded  from  society  by  the  gentlemen  of  the  county 
on  account  of  his  cruel  treatment  of  his  slaves." 

"  He  came  from  Massachusetts,"  grumbled  the  doc- 
tor ;  "  those  Northern  men,  when  they  settle  among 
us,  do  not  know  how  to.  treat  negroes,  because  they 


52  ROEBUCK. 

liavo  not  been  bred  as  slaveholders.  They,  with  a 
few  native  reprobates,  give  the  only  color  of  truth 
there  is  for  the  enormous  calumnies  upon  our  society 
that  are  circulated  at  the  North." 

"  Yesterday,"  resumed  the  colonel,  "  he  maltreated 
one  of  his  slaves,  and,  to  punish  him  for  it,  some 
young  men  of  his  neighborhood  went  to  his  house  in 
the  evening,  and,  inviting  him  out,  they  ducked  him 
in  the  river — by  way  of  a  warning,  they  told  him." 

*'  I  hope  he  was  not  seriously  hurt,"  observed  Mrs. 
Fairfax. 

"  No  ;  he  got  a  thorough  wetting  only,  I  under- 
stand. It  is  probable,  however,  that  he  will  sell  his 
property  and  leave  the  country." 

"  No  doubt,"  said  the  doctor,  "  he  will  return  to 
the  North,  turn  abolitionist  and  deliver  lectm*es  on 
the  horrors  of  slavery — admittance  twenty-five  cents 
a  head." 

"  Might  we  not,  Colonel,"  asked  Mr.  Ambler,  "  p:  o 
tect  the  negroes  by  law  more  eifectually  against  such 
masters  1" 

''  It  is  doubtful.  Good  as  well  as  evil  rssults  from 
the  large  discretionary  authority  allowed  by  law  to 
the  masters,  as  in  the  case  also  of  parents.  Opinion, 
religion,  custom  and  time  are  safer  as  well  as  surer 
forces  than  law  foF  the  melioration  of  such  social  insti- 
tutions. Quid  leges  sine  moribus  jprojiclunt  ?  During 
the  last  two  centuries  the  condition  of  our  slaves  has 
been  greatly  improved  without  much  aid  from  legis- 
lation. The  authority  of  the  masters,  in  point  of 
fact,  is  seldom  abused  in  Virginia.  We  may  expect 
improvement  to  be  progressive.  The  trenchant  oper- 
ation of  positive  law  upon  the  intricate  and  delicate  re- 
lations oi"  society  is  apt  to  be  mischievous,  unless  tho 


Pv  0  E  B  U  C  K  .  53 

law  merely  sanctions  or  completes  what  time  has 
proved  and  usage  enacted.  Then,  though  law  does  no 
harm,  it  is  almost  superlluous.  Thus,  when  time  had 
left  little  for  law  to  do,  slavery  was  abolished  by  law 
in  the  Northern  States.  In  England  it  was  abolished 
insensibly  by  time  alone,  without  law." 

"At  all  events,  colonel,  perhaps  our  legislation 
might  be  amended  with  respect  to  the  marriage  of 
slaves  and  the  separation  of  their  families." 

"  Possibly,  if  the  pestilent  agitation  of  more  vital 
questions  connected  with  the  institution  did  not  pre- 
vent a  calm  consideration  of  such  subjects,  some 
practicable  amendment  might  be  devised.  But  it 
would  be  difficult  to  frame  a  law  that  would  not  do 
more  harm  than  good.  The  practical  evils  to  be  cor- 
rected have  been  in  a  great  measure  removed  already 
in  Virginia  by  the  silent  influences  to  which  I  have 
adverted.  Families  are  seldom  separated  without 
their  consent,  except  in  circumstances  of  necessity, 
such  as  must  separate  families  in  all  communities  and 
under  whatever  laws.  Marriage  is  more  generally  1 
enforced  by  the  authority  of  the  masters  than  will-  ; 
ingly  observed  by  the  negroes.  Their  natural  indif- 
ference to  marital  and  parental  obligations  is  more  in 
fault  than  our  laws.  If  you  absolutely  forbid  the 
separation  of  families,  will  you  not  condemn  both 
masters  and  "slaves  to  unavoidable  suffering  in  many 
cases  V 

"  But  a  Christian  State  should  protect  the  sacred 
bond  of  matrimony." 

"  The  purely  religious  idea  connected  with  marriage 
by  many  Chri  jtians  is  not  a  proper  subject  for  legisla- 
tion. It  is  to  be  inculcated  and  enforced,  as  it  is 
now  among  whites  and  blacks,  by  the  teaching  and 


51  ROEBUCK. 

discipline  of  religious  bodies.  I  believe  that,  when- 
ever the  slaves  are  prepared  to  perform  the  duties  of 
the  family,  there  will  be  little  need  of  law  to  protect 
their  family  ties.  Probably  they  are  better  protected 
and  more  faithfully  observed  now  in  Virginia  than 
such  ties  are  among  free  negres  anywhere  or  among 
the  poorest  classes  in  other  countries." 

''  Xow,  my  dear  husband,  I  think  we  m.ay  lay  these 
grave  themes  aside.  Julia  and  I  have  been  silent  a 
long  time." 

"  Place  aux  dames.  I  yield  the  floor  to  the  ladies. 
Shall  we  talk  of  a  wedding  ?" 

"  I  can  tell  you  something  about  a  wedding  nearer 
home  than  you  think,  perhaps,  papa,  and  not  so 
foreign  to  your  own  grave  discourse  as  your  mode 
of  putting  that  question  implies,"  said  Julia. 

''  A  weddinor  it  shall  be  then,  dauirhter  " 

Julia  gave  a  slight  and  humorous  description'  of 
the  last  grand  wedding  among  the  serv^ants  when 
her  maid,  Grace,  had  been  taken  for  better  for  worse 
by  carpenter  Dick,  with  every  vow  that  should  bind 
two  lives  together  and  with  a  disinterested  contempt 
of  marriage  settlements  ;  when  all  Africa  of  Roebuck 
held  high  festival ;  when  the  women,  ''  black  but 
comely  like  the  tents  af  Kedar,"  arrayed  themselves 
in  gorgeous  colors,  and  when  Mrs.  Fairfax,  having 
supplied  a  great  supper,  gave  a  smiling  care  to  the 
entertainment  of  her  servants.  The  slaves  had  jollity 
and  sensuous  pleasures  which  a  negro  loves ;  master 
and  mistress  assumed  the  cares  which  a  negro  abhors. 
The  children  of  Ham  were  cursed  with  servitude  but 
their  nature  was  adapted  to  make  it  easy.  The  rose 
of  a  blessing  often  blooms  on  the  thorn  of  a  cui*se. 


ROEBUCK.  65 


CHAPTER  V. 

ROEBUCK     TIIHEATENED. 

One  evening,  a  few  days  later,  Albert  Palmer  sat 
at  home  with  his  father  and  mother.  The  parlor  in 
which  they  were  had  costly  furnitm-e,  and  the  house 
was  large  and  commodious.  The  father,  Mr.  Israel 
Palmer,  was  a  little  over  fifty-five  years  of  age,  and, 
in  appearance,  might  have  been  his  son  grown  older, 
rich  and  wary.  Some  score  of  years  before  that  time 
he  had  come  from  New  England  with  a  little  capital, 
and  settled  in  Virginia  as  a  merchant.  He  had 
thriven,  and,  a  few  years  ago,  he  purchased  land  in 
the  county  with  a  hope  of  crowning  a  life  of  success- 
ful business  with  the  respectable  enjoyments  of  a 
wealthy  planter.  He  now  coveted,  as  he  had  once 
envied,  the  social  rank  which  he  regarded  as  aristo- 
cracy. He  was  hospitably  received  in  the  county, 
but,  by  degrees,  a  difference  of  manners  and  tastes 
rendered  the  intercourse  between  him  and  his  neigh- 
"bors  more  constrained  and  less  frequent.  Being 
jealous  and  suspicious,  he  imagined  offence  where 
none  was  intended.  Estrangement  and  then 
dislike  ensued.  Stung  by  fancied  insult,  he  medi- 
tated retaliation.  He  was  not  a  man  to  yield  to  a 
real  or  imaginary  conspiracy  to  exclude  him  from  the 
society  of  the  "  aristocracy."  He  was  resolved  to  re- 
tain his  estate  and  reside  on  it.  He  would  watch  for 
opportunities  to  elevate  his  own  family  and  to  avenge 


56  ROEBUCK. 

himself  on  others.  His  feelings  had  becomo  nlmost 
morbid  when  the  prospect  of  secession  and  war  set 
his  shrewd  and  active  mind  to  calculating  what  ad- 
vantages he  might  derive  from  those  events.  Ha 
was  so  cautious  and  secret  that  his  thoughts  were  not 
fi'eely  disclosed  even  to  his  lamily. 

His  wife  was  a  tall,  slender  woman,  with  many  an- 
gles and  no  curves.  She  wore  her  hair,  her  eyes,  her 
lips,  her  limbs  and  her  gown  with  formal  precision. 
She  sat  erect  in  a  square,  high-backed  chair.  Sho 
placed  her  hands  on  her  lap  smoothly  along,  palm  to 
palm.  She  set  her  feet  flat  on  the  floor,  near  toge- 
ther, and  making  with  each  other  the  veiy  angle 
which,  according  to  her  notion,  was  proper.  When 
she  moved  from  one  seat  to  another,  she  elongated 
her  figure  in  rising  with  the  jointed,  hinged  and 
oiled  exactness  of  a  mathematical  instrument,  glided 
away  on  a  straight  line,  with  mechanical  regularity 
of  st-ep,  and  let  herself  down  like  a  jointed  instrument 
again.  AYhen  she  talked,  her  voice  ran  out  in  a  level 
stream  without  break,  emphasis  or  cadence.  The 
sentiments  she  uttered  were  always  frigid,  but  never 
wrong,  according  to  the  standard  of  right  which  she 
had  studied.  The  warmer  and  nobler  emotions  were 
represented  in  her  discourse,  by  eulogies  of  them. 
She  deprecated  theii*  opposites  with  little  hitches  in 
her  utterances  that  were  hints  of  horror.  She  passed 
for  a  saint  in  her  lamily  and  in  her  conscience  too. 
She  practiced  the  politeness  of  elaborate  flattery.  She 
was  a  woman  of  learning,  for  she  had  been  edue'ated 
in  Boston,  and  talked  rather  ''  like  a  book"  than  like 
a  lady.  She  remembered  some  scraps  of  Latin,  which 
she  lugged  into  her  conversation  in  season  and  out 
of  season. 


ROEBUCK.  5/ 

Husband,  wife  and  son  were  discussin.or  the  latest 
news.     The  same  subject  was  discussed  that  evening 
in  every  habitation  of  Virginia  where  the  intelligence 
liad  been  received.     The  commissioners   deputed  by  ^ 
the  Confederate  government  to  visit  Washington  and  ;* 
solicit  an  amicable  adjustment  of  the  questions  inci- 
dent to  secession,  after  being  detained  with  delusive  « 
art  until  certain  warlike  preparations  were  secretly   \ 
made,   were  rejected.     A  defiance   and   provocative 
of  war  was  oiFered  to  the  South  by  sending  vessels  to 
Charleston  harbor  to  be  fired  upon,  and  finally  it  was 
announced  that  the  President  of  the  United  States 
had,  by  proclamation,  called  forth  an  army  to  be  em- 
ployed  against  the  Confederate  States,  and  that,  in 
consequence  of  this  proclamation,  the  Convention  of 
Virf^inia  had  passed  an  ordinance  of  secession,  sub- 
ject'^to  ratification  or  rejection  by  the  people  at  the 
polls.     It  was  also  rumored  that  the  State  authoritie3 
had  dispatched  a  volunteer  force  to  seize  the  armory 
at  Harper's  Ferry. 

This    means    war,"    pronounced    the    paternal 


a  M 


Palmer. 

"  Undoubtedly  war,"  echoed  the  son. 

''  The  ordinance  of  secession  will  be  ratified  by  the 
people." 

"  Almost  unanimously." 

"  We  should  be  prepared  for  those  events,"  said  the 
father. 

"  We  must  choose  a  side,  no  doubt,"  replied  the 

son. 

"  Or  sides." 

This  brief,  ambiguous  qualification,  added  by  his 
wary  father,  was  not  quite  intelligible  to  Albert,  but 

he  asked  no  explajiation  and  none  was  offered.     The 

g* 


58  ROEBUCK. 

old  gentleman  sat  for  some  minntes  in  silence  looking 
at  his  son,  as  if  •cautiously  pondering  how  f\r  he  miglit 
trust  his  own  flesh  and  blood  with  his  thoughts.  At 
length  he  quietly  remarked — 

"  The  North  will  subjugate  the  South." 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ?" 

"  It  is  mathematically  certain.'* 

"You  scarcely  appreciate  the  Southern  people, 
flither." 

''  I  appreciate  statistics." 

Again  there  was  silence.  The  thin  lips  of  Mrs. 
Palmer  parted,  as  if  to  open  a  passage  for  the  steady 
little  breeze  of  words  which  usually  flowed  without 
apparent  impulse  from  her  mcnith,  whenever  it  was 
open,  like  the  breath  of  the  Blowing  Cave.  But  she 
saw  that  the  gentlemen,  while  gazing  at  each  other, 
were  revolving  thoughts  which  might  not  brook 
interruption  from  her  just  then.  So  the  lips  were  laid 
together  again  in  a  straight  seam.  Her  husband  re- 
sumed the  conversation  in  the  same  quiet  tone. 

"  This  war  will  destroy  slavery." 

"I  do  not  foresee  that  as  a  necessary  consequence," 
replied  Albert,  "  even  if  the  South  should  be  con- 
quered, still  less,  if  the  independence  of  the  South 
should  be  successfully  maintained." 

"  As  hostility  to  slavery  was  the  origin,  the  destruc- 
tion of  slavery  must  be  the  end  of  the  war.  If  it 
should  have  the  magnitude  and  duration  which  I 
anticipat-e,  it  will  destroy  slavery  even  if,  in  the  final 
result,  the  South  should  retain  its  independence." 

"  My  dear  husband  and  my  beloved  son,"  Mrs. 
Palmer  slipped  into  a  slight  pause  in  the  conversation 
of  the  gentlemen,  "my  conscience  prompts  me  to 
observe  that  we  ought  not  to  grieve  at  the  release  of 


ROEBUCK.  59 

millions  of  our  fellow-beings  from  the  shacliles  of 
bondage  and  the  lash  of  cruel  task-masters  ;  all  men 
are  created  free  and  equal ;  man  cannot  lawfully  hold 
property  in  man  ;  traffic  in  human  flesh  cannot  be 
blessed  with  the  approval  of  heaven ;  this  reflection 
occurred  to  my  mind,  my  dear  husband,  when  you 
sold  Tom,  to  be  carried  to  Lousiana  without  his  wife 
and  children,  but  it  was  true,  as  you  said,  that  he  was 
quite  disobedient  and  he  did  not  want  his  family  to 
go 'with  him  and  his  wife  did  not  want  to  go,  and  that 
last  family  you  bought  you  got  at  alow  price,  because 
the  owner  did  not  wish  to  separate  them  and  could 
not  find  another  purchaser  for  them  all ;  it  was  very 
humane  in  you  ;  I  hope  the  day  will  soon  come  when 
the  whole  family  of  man  will  enjoy  the  sunshine  of 
universal  freedom  under  " 

"  We  should  be  prepared  for  these  events,  Albert," 
repeated  the  father. 

"  Prudence  requu'es  it,"  prudently  echoed  the  son. 

"  I  will  sell  my  slaves." 

"  The  money  might  be  more  secure  in  any  event  of 
the  war." 

"  But,  my  dear  husband,  would  it  not  be  more  con- 
sistent with  our  principles  to  emancipate  them  ?" 

''  To  be  denounced  as  an  abolitionist?" 

"  True  ;  that  is  an  insuperable  objection  ;  we  must 
preserve  our  respectability  in  society ;  my  sensibility 
is  deeply  wounded  when  I  think  of  the  painful  neces- 
sities of  our  position  here  ;  I  sometimes  regret  that  we 
left  New  England,  coelum  iion  animutfi  mutant  qui  trans 
mare  currunt ;  to  be  sure  we  have  improved  our  worldly 
condition  here,  but  nothing  is  so  swQ^t  as  a  calm 
and  quiet  conscience;  I  suppose  me  must  sell  the 
negroes  " 


60  ROEBUCK. 

"I  will  invest  the  money  abroad,"  added  Mr. 
Palmer. 

"  Would  it  not  be  pnident  to  sell  your  land  also 
and  invest  the  money  abroad  ?"  asked  Albert. 

"Never!"  exclaimed  the  father,  rising  and  walk- 
ing about  the  room  in  evident  excitement.  It  was 
part  of  a  cherished  plan  to  retain  his  land  as  .the 
territorial  foundation  of  that  social  supremacy  to 
which  he  aspired.  The  proposal  to  sell  it  pricked  his 
most  sensitive  nerve.  But,  with  habitual  self-control, 
he  restrained  the  expression  of  his  thoughts,  and, 
after  some  time,  resumed  his  seat  and  his  composure. 

*'You  have  said,  Albert,  that  we  must  choose  a 
Bide  in  this  war." 

"  *  Or  sides,'  you  added,  father." 

"  "Why  should  a  man  risk  his  fortunes  with  one 
party  exclusively  1  Or  why  should  you  and  1  both 
appear  on  the  same  side  ?" 

These  questions  surprised  Albert.  lie  had  taken 
for  granted  that,  in  such  a  contest,  it  would  be  neces- 
sary for  him  to  act  a  decided  part,  and  he  had  not 
di'eamed  of  acting  in  opposition  to  his  father.  He 
had  made  some  progress  toward  a  decision  for  him- 
self, but  with  a  mental  reservation  that  his  father  was 
to  approve  his  final  choice.  lie  had  been  educated  al 
a  Northern  University,  but  even  tliere,  he  liad  aftected 
to  play  the  Southerner.  The  young  men  of  Virginia 
always  treated  him  with  cordial  friendship,  and,  by 
their  frank  manners,  high  spirit  and  honorable  con- 
duct, they  won  his  esteem  and  excited  his  emulation. 
From  them  he  borrowed  some  sentiments  of  local 
patriotism,  sncli  as  the  young  always  cherish,  and  he 
was  ambitious  to  appear  among  them  as  a  true  and 
ai'dont  Virginian.     He  adopted  his  father's  aspiration 


KOEBUCK.  01 

to  improvo  tho  social  position  of  the  family,  and 
thought  his  own  marriage  might  promote  that  object. 
He  was  not  insensible  to  the  charms  of  Julia  Fairfax, 
and,  with  hereditjiry  thrift,  had  calculated  the  advan- 
tajres  which  the  hand  of  that  heiress  could  bestow. 
Under  the  inlluence  of  various  feelings  and  calcula- 
tions, he  had  accustomed  himself  to  make  loud  pro- 
fessions of  violent  Southern  sentiments,  and  he  could 
scarcely  have  told  how  far  they  were  sincere  and  how 
far  affected.  He  was  inclined  to  range  himself  still 
on  the  side  of  Vu'ginia  in  the  war  that  was  now  immi- 
nent, but  he  was  ready  to  weigh  all  advantages  on 
each  side  before  taking  an  irrevocable  step.  It  had 
never  occurred  to  him  that  he  might  secure  the 
advantages  of  both  sides  or  of  neutrality.  Perplexed 
by  his  father's  questions,  he  looked  at  him  as  if  he 
would  rea<-l  an  explanation  in  his  face,  but  that  was 
not  to  be  read  like  the  face  of  a  clock.  Mr.  Palmer, 
instead  of  explaining  asked  another  question — 
*  "  To  which  side  do  you  incline,  Albert  V* 

"  I  have  believed  that  it  was  your  desire  to  identify 
our  family  with  this  community,  and  it  would  seem 
most  consistent  with  your  views  that  I  should  em- 
brace the  cause  of  Virginia,"  cautiously  replied  the 
Bon.     After  another  pause  the  father  said — 

"  You  have  visited  Miss  Fairfax '?" 

"  Not  often." 

"What  course  will  her  father  pursue  in  the  war?" 

"  Doubtless  he  will  adhere  to  Yu*ginia." 

"  He  owns  a  fine  estate'?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  It  will  be  confiscated." 

Again  there  was  silence.  The  suggestion  of  con- 
fiscation was   new  to  Albert,  and  both  gentlemen 


62  ROEBUCK. 

were  interested  in  trains  of  thought  connected  with 
it,  but  neither  communicated  his  reflections  to  the 
other.  At  lengtli  the  father  briefly  announced  his 
conchision. . 

'  Go  with  the  South,  Albert.  I  will  adhere  to  the 
North." 

'•  Really,  father,  you  will  oblige  me  if  you  will  ex- 
plain the  reasons  which  lead  you  to  a  decision  so  ex- 
traordinary." 

'•  Is  it  not  natural  for  me  to  prefer  the  land  in 
which  I  was  born  and  in  which  I  lived  until  I  was 
too  old  to  discard  the  attachments  of  youth,  and 
that  you  should  prefer  the  land  in  which  you  have 
grown  up  ?" 

"  Possibly ;  but" — the  young  man  hesitated.  He 
was  about  to  insinuate  that  his  father  had  put  forth 
a  mere  pretext  to  cover  deeper  reasons.  He  was  un- 
derstood.    The  father  replied  to  his  thought. 

'•  I  choose,  then,  the  party  that  is  most  likely  to 
prevail.  I  expect  thus  to  save  my  property.  You 
have  none  to  lose.  By  the  sale  of  negroes  I  may  obtain 
means  to  purchase  confiscated  estates.  All  will  enure 
to  the  benefit  of  yourself  and  your  mother  and  sister. 
This  is  preparation  for  one  event  and  that  almost  cer- 
tain. But  if  the  South  should  happen  to  succeed 
you  can  save  my  property,  and,  by  marriage,  you 
may  obtain  another  estate.  Now  do  you  understand  ?" 
he  asked  with  asperity,  as  if  he  was  angry  with  his 
son  for  requiring  him  to  disclose  his  secret  plans. 
The  latter  inquired — 

'•  May  not  yoiu'  property  or  perhaps  your  person  be 
in  danger  here,  when  it  becomes  known  that  you  em- 
brace the  Northern  cause'?" 

"  It  need  not  become  known  here.** 


ROEBUCK.  63 

As  the  gentlemen  ceased  to  converse,  Mrs.  Palmer 
deemed  this  a  favorable  opportunity  for  herself  to 
talk,  but  she  had  to  soliloquize.  Her  keen  scent  of 
the  family  interest  made  her  a  safe  confidant  of  all 
domestic  debates,  and  the  instinct  of  unwavering  self- 
ishness had  sometimes  carried  her  on  a  bee-line  to 
the  stores  of  fortune  when  reason  would  have  stum- 
bled in  the  search.  But  when  business  had  been 
settled,  the  gentlemen  did  not  deem  it  necessary  to 
hear  her  homily. 

"  It  is  a  good  thing  to  see  brethren  dwell  together 
in  unity  ;  it  is  a  great  crime  to  destroy  the  glorious 
Union  established  by  our  fathers  and  cemented  with 
their  blood — liberty  and  union  now  and  forever  one 
and  inseparable — every  man  should  do  his  duty  to  his 
country ;  dulce  et  decouni  est  pro  patria  mori;  we  should 
be  willing  to  die  for  our  native  land ;  your  native 
land  is  New  England,  my  dear  husband — '  lives  there 
a  man  with  soul  so  dead  who  never'  to  himself  hath 
said,  this  is  my  own,  my  native  land;'  you  did  not 
cease  to  be  a  true  Kew  Englander  by  coming  to  Vir- 
ginia to  make  a  fortune ;  even  a  poor  banished  exile 
carries  with  him  the  sentiments  which  he  inhaled  with 
his  native  SAV^patrxe  quis  exul  se  quorjue  fug'it ;  the 
North  is  the  strongest ;  why  should  the  dear  children 
lose  their  patrimony  in  a  quarrel  between  Northern 
fanatics  and  Southern  fire-eaters ;  a  man  who  don't 
provide  for  his  family  is  several  degrees  worse  than 
an  Infidel ;  if  poor  Colonel  Fairfax's  estate  should 
be  confiscated  you  may  be  able  to  buy  it  with  the 
money  you  get  for  the  negroes  ;  I  abhor  the  traffic  in 
human  flesh ;  I  was  brought  up  in  pious  principles ; 
if  the  South  should  succeed,  Albert  might  marry  Miss 
Fairfax,  and  save  the  estate  all  the  sain?3 ;  it  would  be 


64  ROEBUCK. 

60  kind  of  us  to  keep  it  in  the  poor  colonel's  family ; 
we  need  not  talk  about  these  things ;  nobody  need 
ever  know,  Albert,  whether  your  father  is  North  or 
South  ;  he  is  a  very  wise  man." 

'•Mother,  where  is  sister  Jane?  I  vrant  some 
music." 

Sister  Jane  was  called,  but  her  music  only  served 
to  remind  Albert  of  Julia  Fairfax,  whose  image  lured 
him  along  a  chain  of  logic  that  ended  in  a  conclusion 
favorable  to  the  Southern  cause.  He  resolved  to  ad- 
here to  it  for  reasons  leather  more  reputable  than  those 
which  his  father  had  suggested.  But  he  found  it 
satisfactory  to  know  that  a  course  of  conduct  which 
was  right  was  also,  in  the  judgment  of  his  wise  father, 
prudent  in  all  aspects. 

When  the  music  ceased,  Mr.  Palmer  drew  forth  his 
watch  and  intimated  that  the  hour  for  family  worship 
had  arrived.  All  the  daughters  were  summoned,  and 
^L*s.  Palmer  placed  on  a  stand  beside  him  a  Bible,  a 
hymn  book  and  a  candle ;  for,  in  eveiy  external  ob- 
servance, as  in  every  prudential  vutue,  Mi\  Israel 
Palmer  was  the  model  of  a  Christian. 


ROEBUCK.  65 


CHAPTER  VI. 


vr  A  K  . 


Om  the  next  day  sat  the  County  Court.  At  an 
e^rly  hour  the  court-house  gi'een  and  the  village  street 
were  thronged  with  men.  Horses  filled  every  stable 
and  shed,  and  stood  along  both  sides  of  the  street 
from  end  to  end.  The  county  had  turned  out,  for  the 
county  was  deeply  agitated. 

The  village  had  but  a  single  street.  On  one  side  of 
it  stood  the  com-t-house,  with  its  adjacent  offices  and 
neighboring  jail.  Opposite  was  the  Swan  Tavern,  an 
anctent  inn^fimious  for  good  cheer.  Scattered  along 
either  side  of  the  street  were  two  rival  stores,  the 
shops  of  the  blacksmith,  saddler,  wagon-maker  and 
shoemaker,  the  offices  of  two  lawyers  and  two  physi- 
cians, and  the  dwellings  of  half-a-dozen  mechanics. 
At  one  end  of  the  street  stood  a  wooden  building,  of 
which  the  lower  story  was  occupied  by  a  wool-carding 
machine,  propelled  by  horse-  power,  and  in  the  upper 
story  was  a  printing  office,  from  which  a  weekly  news- 
paper entitled  the  "  Tobacco  Leaf"  was  issued  about 
twice  a  month,  and  in  some  months  thrice.  At  the 
other  end  of  the  street  was  an  old  church,  built  in  Co- 
lonial times,  with  a  parsonage  of  less  antiquity.  The 
church-yard  contained  many  monuments  that  were 
moss-grown  or  crumbling  with  age.  On  some  of 
them  could  yet  be  dimly  traced  heraldic  or  literal  me- 
mentoes of  the  pride  of  a  former  generation,  and  on 


C6  ROEBUCK. 

others  were  inscriptions  so  quaint  that  nothing  but 
antiquity  could  save  them  from  from  a  suspicion  of 
drollery.  With  these,  of  course,  were  decent  but 
tasteless  tombstones  of  modern  date. 

Such  was  the  village  which  had  once  been  endowed 
with  a  proper  name — some  name  already  famous,  or 
one  which  the  village  was  expected  to  render  famous. 
But  it  was  almost  forgotten  and  never  mentioned  in 
the  county.  People  always  spoke  simply  of  "the 
village,"  as  if  there  had  been  but  one  in  the  universe. 
In  fact,  there  was  not  another  of  equal  importance  in 
the  county,  and  there  were  but  few  in  Virginia.  Ex- 
cept those  whose  professions  or  trades  bound  them  to 
towns,  people  in  that  fair,  bright  county  preferred 
rural  residences.  In  the  wide  suburbs  of  this  village 
resided,  among  shady  groves  and  on  small  farms  or 
large  lots,  the  merchants,  professional  men  and  prin- 
cipal officers  of  the  county. 

On  the  court  green — a  shady  lawn  of  considerable 
extent — the  citizens  of  the  county  wereaccustomed  to 
meet  on  all  public  days  for  the  transaction  of  busi- 
ness, to  hear  and  tell  news,  or  to  discuss  the  affairs 
of  the  county,  the  State  and  the  Union.  Never 
before,  perhaps,  had  so  many  of  them  been  assem- 
bled there  as  ou  this  April  court  day,  in  the  year 
eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-one.  A  glance  at  the 
assemblage  would  have  discovered  that  there  was 
intense  popular  excitement,  but  it  was  silent  and 
stern. 

"When  Colonel  Fairfax  went  upon  the  gTeen  that 
day,  and  even  before  he  had  left  his  horse,  he  was  sm*- 
rounded  by  different  knots  of  men,  successively  gi'asp- 
ing  his  hand  and  seeking  his  counsel.  He  was  always 
received  there  as  a  favorite  citizen,  for  he  was  very 


ROEBUCK.  C7 

popular.  But  on  this  occasion  it  was  not  mere  popu- 
larity, it  was  a  profound  respect  for  his  wisdom,  integ- 
rity and  pati'iotisni  that  drew  the  people  around  him, 
as  their  counsellor  in  a  crisis  of  public  dan<;'Gr.  To 
their  eager  inquiries  he  replied,  sadly  but  firmly,  "  the 
hour  has  come — we  must  figlit."  His  words  flew  from 
mouth  to  mouth,  and  the  whole  multitude  soon  knew 
that  ''  Colonel  Fred  thought  we  must  fight."  Tliis 
opinion  accorded  so  exactly  with  the  previous  convic- 
tion of  every  mind  and  the  impulse  of  every  heart 
that  it  was  accepted  at  once  as  a  conclusive  judgment. 
When  it  became  generally  understood  that  the  ques- 
tion of  war  was  determined,  and  that  the  people  were 
all  of  one  mind,  the  hushed  excitement  was  succeeded 
by  mm-murs  of  mutual  encouragement.  Most  of  those 
present  were  thoughtful  and  resolute  men,  who  were 
well  aware  that  the  war  which  they  accepted  as  un- 
avoidable was  for  them  a  calamity.  They  felt  as 
brave  and  rational  men  may  feel  when  they  are  forced 
to  choose  between  the  risk  of  death  and  the  loss  of 
something  held  dearer  than  life.  There  were  no  des- 
perate wretches  to  whom  war  might  bring  relief. 
There  were  no  mere  "  food  for  powder."  But  when 
the  feelings  of  the  crowd  began  to  find  vent  in  Avords, 
Bome  enthusiastic  young  men  evinced  the  animal  joy 
of  youth  at  the  i^rospect  of  glorious  strife.  Among 
the  boys  excitement,  as  usual,  eff'ervesced  in  hilarity. 
Then*  spirit  of  glee  was  caught  up  as  a  multitude 
catches  any  emotion,  no  one  can  tell  how  or  why,  and 
in  a  little  while  smiles  were  seen  on  the  lips  of  men 
whose  brows  were  yet  stern.  Their  hearts  were  heavy 
but  not  dismayed.  The  spring  of  courage  supported 
the  weight  of  war. 

Hugh  Fitzhugh  stood  upon  the  steps  of  the  portico 


68  ROEBUCK. 

in  front  of  the  cmnt-hoiise.  A  crier  of  the  oonrt, 
standing  beside  him,  solicited  attention  by  shouting 
with  stentorian  voice — "  Oyez,  Oyez  !  silence  is  com- 
manded, on  pain  of  imprisonment — beg  pardon — I 
take  that  baek — Oyez,  Oyez !  Hugh  Fitzhn^h,  Esquire, 
will  now  address  the  people,  and  God  save  the  Com- 
monwealth and  this  worshipful  court — I  beg  pardon 
again — but  I  will  say,  God  save  old  Virginia,  and  I'll 
never  take  it  back,  pardon  or  no  pardon." 

Whether  the  crier  had  a  design  or  merely  blundered 
into  an  accustomed  formula  of  his  office,  his  final 
prayer  for  the  Commonwealth,  uttered  with  earnest 
emphasis,  sent  a  thrill  through  the  crowd.  A  score  of 
voices  cried,  "  three  cheers  for  old  Virginia  —  God 
bless  her !"  and  all  the  people  responded  with  a  tumult 
of  cheering.     When  there  was  silence,  Fitzhugh  said: 

"  It  is  proposed  to  raise  a  company  of  volunteer 
cavalry  for  the  defeiice  of  the  State.  I  hold  a  paper 
prepared  for  the  signatures  of  those  who  wish  to  vol- 
unteer. Let  them  now  come  forward.  If  others  will 
pardon  me  for  taking  the  start  of  them,  I  will  set  my 
name  down  first." 

'•  Well  done,  Hugh !"  exclaimed  the  older  citizens. 
*'  Wait  for  me  !  Wait  for  me  I"  shouted  many  of  the 
younger.  "Tlu'ee  cheers  for  Hugh  Fitzhugh  I"  cried 
one — "  thi'ee  cheers  for  the  cavalry  1"  added  another, 
and  "  three  cheers  for  the  Old  Dominion !"  was  a  gen- 
eral call.  All  the  cheers  proposed  were  given  with  a 
vrillj.and  while  the  raa.-is  fanned  itself  into  a  fiame  with 
its  own  breath,  the  young  men  were  stepping  forward 
and  enrolling  their  names.  But  it  became  necessaiy 
to  retire  from  the  portico,  for  within  the  temple  of  jus- 
tice the  voice  of  the  crier  was  heard  commanding 
silence  in  the  formula  with  which  the  sessions  of  the 


ROEBUCK.  69 

court  were  opened.  Tlie  court  was  held  by  five  jus- 
tices of  the  peace, -respectable  farmers,  and  the  preside 
ing  justice  was  Captain  Walker,  a  venerable  man  of 
ninety.  He  was  remarkable  for  vigor  of  mind  and 
body  at  that  age.  Few  men  of  seventy  canied  their 
burden  of  years  with  as  unbending  firmness.  In  the 
earliest  years  of  the  century  he  was  a  leading  citizen 
of  the  county,  respected  for  his  uprightness,  liis  en- 
ergy and' his  ability.  Increase  of  years  added  all  that 
should  'accompany  old  age.  Having  once  served  as  a 
captain  of  volunteers,  he  was  still  called  ''  captain." 
The  fictitious  title  of  colonel,  often  courteously  or 
jocosely  confeiTed  on  conspicuous  citizens  by  popular 
brevet,  could  not  supersede  the  real  rank  of  actual  ser- 
vice. A  fiction  fastened  upon  his  name  would  have 
offended  the  genuine  esteem  felt  by  his  neighbors  for  a 
character  so  ruggedly  sincere. 

It  was  apparent  that  no  judicial  business  could  be 
transacted  that  day.  The  Commonwealth's  attorney, 
Mr.  Williams,  rose  to  address  the  court,  and,  after 
alluding  to  the  commencement  of  war,  observed  that 
in  the  first  instance  the  counties  would  probably  have 
to  provide  for  the  immediate  expenditures  required  for 
the  public  defence,  for  the  equipment  of  volunteers  and 
for  the  support  of  their  families  in  the  cases  of  poor 
men  during  their  absence  from  home.  At  his  sugges- 
tion, the  court  ordered  all  the  justices  of  the  county  to 
be  summoned  to  the  next  monthly  term  for  the  pur- 
pose of  considering  this  subject.  He  then  stated 
that  the  people  desired  to  hear  a  discussion  of  public 
affairs,  and  particularly  of  the  question  submitted  to 
them  by  the  convention — that  of  secession.  In  order 
that  the  court-house  might  be  occupied  for  this  pur- 
pose, the  court,  on  his  motion,  adjourned  for  the  day. 


70  ROEBUCIt. 

Proclamntion  having  boen  made  at  the  door,  the 
people  gathered  into  the  court-hotise — all  except  those 
who  were  too  intent  upon  the  formation  of  a  company 
of  cavalry.  The  question  of  war  had  been  deter- 
mined, or  rather,  as  they  thought,  it  had  been  forced 
by  their  enemies.  The  question  of  secession  remained 
to  be  discussed  and  decided.  The  house  was  soon 
brim-full.  The  dense  assemblage  included  citizens  of 
all  ages,  classes  and  conditions.  High  and  low,  rich 
and  poor,  learned  and  unlettered,  were-  packed 
together.  The  upturned  faces  expressed  every  degree 
of  intelligence  and  a  great  variety  of  character ;  but 
all  were  earnest  faces,  and  not  a  dozen  men  were  there 
who  would  have  told  a  lie  under  any  temptation. 

According  to  custom,  a  chairman  of  the  meeting 
was  appointed.  The  person  selected  for  that  office 
was  Captain  Walker,  the  presiding  justice  of  the 
County  Court.  When  he '  stepped  forward  on  the 
justices'  bench  t©  take  the  chair  the  whole  assembly 
rose  in  token  of  respect  for  him  and  stood  until  he 
was  seated.  Before  taking  his  seat . he  spoke  a  few 
word^. 

"  My  countrymen  :  I  thank  you  for  this  honor,  but 
I  accept  it  with  sadness,  I  rejoiced  at  the  birth  of 
the  Union.  Now,  on  the  verge  of  the  grave  myself, 
I  am  summoned  to  its  death-bed.  Would  to  God  I 
had  died  first !  But  it  is  better  to  have  liberty  with- 
out union  than  union  without  liberty." 


ROEBUCK.  71 

CHAPTER  VIL 

SECESSION. 

Some  of  the  speeches  delivered  to  the  meeting  were 
long  and  elaborate,  but  they  have  not  been  preserved 
in  full.  Brief  notes,  taken  by  the  editor  of  the 
*'  Tobacco  Leaf,"  were  published  in  the  next  issue  of 
that  journal,  and  thus  the  heads  of  argument  can  now 
be  reproduced.  They  will  be  given  with  their  imper- 
fect brevity,  but  in  the  connected  form  of  speeches 
rather  than  in  the  manner  of  detached  memoranda,  as 
they  appeared  in  the  newspaper.  Mr.  Williams  first 
addressed  the  meeting : 

"You  are  yet  a  free  people,"  he  began,  "you  are 
assembled,  not  as  conspirators  concealed  by  darkness  and 
bound  by  clandestine  oaths,  nor  as  subjects  overawed  by 
bayonets,  but  as  free  citizens  deliberating  in  open  day 
according  to  ancient  usage  upon  tlie  affairs  of  your  country. 
Whatever  may  be  your  decision  this  day  or  at  the  polls, 
you  will,  in  deciding,  exercise  a  hereditary  right  in  a  law- 
ful manner.  You  will  perform  tlie  gravest  duty  that  ever 
has  devolved  upon  you  as  citizens.  Decide  for  your 
country. 

"You  love  the  Union.  Only  a  few  weeks  ago,  at  the 
election  of  members  of  tlie  convention  now  in  session,  you 
gave  a  new  and  conclusive  proof  of  your  devotion  to  it  by 
your  votes.  Even  to-day,  though  your  judgments  may  be 
convinced  that  secession  is  n^icessary,  yet  in  advocating  it  I 
may  shoci:  the  sensibility  of  your  life-long  attachment.  In 
no  State  has  the  Union  been  cherished  with  more  sincere 
affection  than  in  Virginia.  But  you  will  not  shrink  froiU 
duty  because  it  is  painful. 


72  ROEBUCK. 

*•  The  riglit  of  a  State  to  withdraw  from  the  Union  when- 
CTcr,  in  her  j  i  Igmant,  it  has  beconi-?  oppressive  anil  sha 
has  no  other  adequate  remedy,  is  a  right  which  our  fathers 
have  taught  us  to  venerate  as  essential  to  the  preservation 
of  our  liber'ties  under  the  Federal  system.  You  arc  familiar 
with  the  reasons  by  wliich  it  has  been  vindicated.  I  need 
only  remind  you  of  some  of  those  reasons.  According  to 
an  acknowledged  principle  of  natural  justice  and  of  pubiij 
law,  a  sovereign  Slate  has  a  riglit  to  dissolve  ber  compacts 
with  other  States  whenever,  in  her  judgment,  there  is  ja.^t 
cause  to  dissolve  them.  If  this  right  were  not  allowed,  a 
State  would  often  have  no  ju5t  redress  for  the  violation  of  a 
compact  by  anotlier  party.  Slie  is  held  t9  be  justified  in 
annulling  it  in  morals  as  well  as  in  law,  wh-n  it  has  been 
wilfully  violated  by  the  otlier  party  in  points  essential  to 
her  security  or  welfare.  The  application  of  these  principles 
to  the  Federal  Union  will  not  be  denied  by  any  one  who 
admits  tliat  our  States  are  sovereign  and  that  the  Constitu- 
tion is  a  compact  between  them.  But  these  were  tho 
propositions  established  in  a  memorable  contest— the  first 
great  Constitutional  controversy  in  the  Union.  Virg'nl.A 
liad  a  conspicuous  part  in  that  controversy,  and  has  preserved 
for  the  instruction  of  future  ages  the  unanswerable  proofs  she 
then  arrayed  to  establish  that  the  States  are  sovereign  and 
the  Federal  Constitution  is  a  compact  bet^Ye3n  them. 

*'  When  the  Colonies  threw  off  their  allegiance  to  Great 
Britain,  they  assumed  the  character  of  Spates.  In  that 
character  they  were  recognized  by  each  other,  and  by  all 
nations.  In  that  character  they  framed  and  adopted  tha 
Pederal  Constitution,  retaining  in  it  the  name  of  United 
States.  Important  provisions  of  that  instrument  recog- 
nize their  continued  existence  as  States,  with  the  equality 
of  sovereigns,  and  with  a  large  and  undefined  reservation 
of  independent  powers.  By  the  most  solemn  acts  of  Mas- 
sachusetts and  of  other  States,  the  sovereignty  of  each 
State  in  the  Union  has  been  affirmed.  Oar  political  and 
judicial  history  is  full  of  documents  supporting  tlie  same 
doctrine,  associated  with  the  fundamental  principle  that  the 
Gonstitution  is  a  compact.     The 


n  O  E  B  U  C  K  .  YS 

pnfit,  inherent  in  the  States  was  not  surrendered  in 
the  Constitution.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  reserved 
by  Virginia  in  her  ordinance  to  ratify  the  Federal  com- 
pact. 

"If  we  ascend  above  Constitutions  and  historical  docu- 
ments to  tlie  sources  of  natural  and  eternal  justice,  a  natu- 
nil,  inalienable,  indefeasible  right  of  self-governmeut  be- 
loniTs  to  great  communities  like  these  Southern  States — 
civilized,  organized  communities,  capable  of  fulfilling  the 
duties  of  "a  nation.  This  is  a  right  which  no  constitution  or 
compact  can  annul,  and  no  power  can  take  away. 

"Having  the  riglit,  Virginia  ought  to  secede.  The  Fe- 
deral compact  has  often  been  nullitied  or  violated  by  many 
of  the  Northern  States,  wilfully,  wantonly,  persistently  in 
matters  vitally  affecting  the  Southern  States.  The  power 
w])ich  the  North  has  acquired,  and  its  persistence  in 
wrong,  have  destroyed  all  hope  of  redress  in  the  Union. 
Many  acts  of  Northern  aggression  are  fresh  in  your  recol- 
lection. Each  one  has  been  met  with  solemn  protest  by 
the  South,  and  every  protest  has  provoked  a  new  outrage. 
I  shall  not  now  recite  the  long  and  dreary  catalogue  of  ag- 
gressions, for  the  most  recent  events  demand  our  exclusive 
attention.      History  will  keep  a  record  of  all. 

"The  framers  of  the  Federal  Constitution  guarded 
against  abuse  of  power  by  the  government  in  every  way 
that  their  wisdom  foresaw  to  be  necessary  ;  for  they  knew 
tliat  all  governments  tend  to  tyranny.  Tliey  protected  the 
small  States  against  the  ambition  of  tlie  larger.  But  the 
problem  of  binding  two  powerful  and  unequal  nations  to- 
gether under  one  government,  without  permitting  either  to 
oppress  the  other,  was  not  present  to  their  minds.  They 
did  not  foresee  that  a  confederacy  of  the  most  populous 
States  would  be  formed  within  the  Union,  constituting  a 
distinct  nation,  animated  with  the  usual  passions  of  nations, 
and  with  animosity  against  the  whole  body  of  the  States 
not  embraced  in  that  Confederacy.  But  this  is  what  has 
happened.  Tlie  Constitution,  so  far  from  providing  secu- 
rity against  oppression  in  such  a  case,  has  unintentionally 
facilitated  the  design  of  the  Northern   Confederacy  to  op- 


74  ROEBUCK. 

pres3  the  South.  By  a  oomblnation  pursuing  the  forms  of 
the  Conslitution,  a  m'mority  of  the  people  of  the  Union  have 
concentrated  the  whole  power  of  the  North  anl  seized  the 
government,  electing  a  President  upon  principles  so  unjust 
that  he  could  not  receive  one  Southern  vote.  Those  who 
persuade  themselves  that  the  dominion  thus  usurped  by  the 
North  over  the  South  will  ever  be  relinquished,  or  that  it 
will  be  exercised  with  justice,  forget  history  and  ignore 
human  nature.  Since  a  Northern  Confederacy  has  usurped 
the  authority  of  the  Union  for  our  oppression,  we  must 
save  our  liberty  by  a  Southern  Confederacy  beyond  the 
Union. 

"  If  any  doubt  heretofore  remained  of  the  necessity  for 
this  action,  it  must  have  been  dispelled  since  the  North  has 
claimed  the  right,  through  the  Federal  government,  which 
it  controls,  to  reduce  the  South  to  obedience  by  arms,  and 
has  drawn  the  sword  for  that  purpose.  We  might  easily 
refute  that  pretension  by  Constitutional  argument,  but  the 
Bword  can  be  answered  only  witli  the  sword.  The  framers 
of  the  Constitution  distinctly  refused  to  confer  on  the  Fede- 
ral government  the  power  to  compel  the  submission  of  ^ 
State  by  military  force.  The  last  President  of  the  United 
States  officially  disclaimed  the  power.  It  could  not  exist 
without  transforming  our  Federal  system.  It  cannot  be 
exercised  without  establishing  a  militar}'-  despotism  at 
Washington.  But  reason  is  silenced.  The  voice  of  can- 
non, and  not  the  voice  of  the  people,  must  decide  these 
controversies. 

"  We  must  defend  our  sister  States  of  the  South.  We 
cannot  be  neutral.  We  will  not  make  war  against  them. 
Honor,  affection,  self-preservation,  compel  us  to  take  arms 
in  their  defence.  If  we  are  to  fight  we  must  secede.  Un- 
less the  State  resumes  her  separate  existence,  and  reclaims 
the  autliority  which  she  has  granted  to  the  Federal  govern- 
ment, her  people  will  incur  the  penalties  'of  treason  by 
fighting  against  that  government.  If  she  secedes^,  she  can 
unite  with  the  other  Southern  States  and  make  their  joint 
resistance  effectual.  Her  example  will  be  followed  by 
States  yet  adhering  to  the  Union.      The  formidable  array 


ROEBUCK.  75 

of  all  the  Southern  States  may  even   yet   deter  the  North, 
and  arrest  the  war.      At  all  events,  it  -will  assure  success," 

The  address  of  Mr.  Williams  was  heard  with  silent 
attention.  At  the  conclusion  of  it  he  proposed  a  re- 
solution to  declare  the  sense  of  the  meeting  that  the 
ordinance  of  Recession  should  be  ratified  by  the 
people.  iThen  there  was  a  pause  in  the  proceedings, 
to  aiford  any  who  might  wish  to  speak  an  oppor- 
tunity. No  one  came  forward  until  the  chairman  was 
about  to  take  a  vote.  Then  Doctor  Fairfax  rose,  and 
with  some  trepidation  in  his  voice,  signilied  a  desire 
to  address  the  meeting.  The  solemnity  of  the  occa- 
sion and  of  the  audience  repressed  his  propensity  to 
sarcastic  levity  and  braced  his  nerves — for  he  was  a 
raan  of  nerve — to  the  unaccustomed  task  of  address- 
ing a  public  assembly.  He  spoke  thus  .in  sub- 
stance : — 

*'  I  am  opposed  to  secession.  I  concur  in  the  opinion 
that  we  are  now  obliged  to  engage  in  war  for  the  defence 
of  the  South.  War  supersedes  other  controversies,  and, 
therefore,  I  shall  not  discuss  the  right  of  secession  or  the 
causes  of  secession.  Certainly,  we  shall  be  justified  in  se- 
ceding, if  secession  is  advisable  as  a  measure  of  war.  But 
it  is  witii  reference  to  the  war  that,  in  my  judgment,  se- 
cession is  not  advisable. 

"If  we  remain  in  the  Union  we  may  reasonably  hope  to 
terminate  this  war  with  an  honorable  peace ;  for  we  shall 
fight  upon  no  pretension  that  our  enemies  may  not  ulti- 
mately concede  for  the  sake  of  peace.  If  we  seced;',  we 
can  never  return  to  the  Union  without  a  surrender  of  the 
main  point  of  contest — that  is,  without  acknowledging  our- 
selves conquered.  The  North  will  never  concede  our 
separate  indcp^judence.  The  war  must  be  fought  to  ex- 
tremity, and,  in  the  extreme  event,  the  South  will  be  sub- 
jugated. By  stakmg  all  upon  a  desperate  venture,  we 
Bhall  lose  all.     By  moderating  our  preteusions,  we  may  se- 


76  R  O  E  B  U  C  Iv  - 

cure  important  rii^bts,  which  inxy  be  respected  hercaftcf, 
beonnss  Ave  are  ready  to  defend  them  with  the  sword. 
If  Vir:zinla  adheres  to  the  Union  the  States  which  have  ai- 
ceded  may,  under  her  example  and  mediation,  rctara  to  it, 
and  there  may  be  a  peace  lionorable  to  all. 

■"That  the  war,  if  prosecuted  to  extremity,  will  result 
in  our  subjugation,  appears  to  my  mind  painfully  certain. 
The  fi2:hting  population  of  the  North  is  as  three  to  one  of 
our  own  at  the  beginning,  and  with  every  hour  of  war  tliis 
disparity  will  be  widened.  E:nigration  from  Europe  will 
replenish  the  Xorth.  All  the  adventurers,  paupers  and 
vagabonds  of  the  Old  World  can  be  hired  to  fight  against 
us.  Casualties  and  the  curtailment  of  our  territory  by  in- 
vasion, will  diminish  our  numbers  and  uo-  foreign  supply 
Mill  restore  them.  We  shall  lose  Delaware,  Maryland, 
Kentucky  and  Missouri  certainly.  AVar  is  in  a  large 
measure  a  work  of  money  and  machines.  The  North  has 
both.  We  have  neither.  The  North  can  soon  set  afloat  au 
unequalled  navy.  The  South  can  have  none.  Commerce 
will  continue  to  enrich  our  enemies.  We  shall  be  cut  oflf 
from  all  the  world  beyond  our  own  shores.  The  Federal 
government  has  unbounded  credit.  Oar  government  must 
establish  itself  before  it  can  enjoy  the  credit  through  which 
it  should  be  established.  Our  vast  rivers  will  divide  our 
power  and  admit  the  forces  of  the  enemy  into  the  heart  of 
our  territory.  With  a  population  thinly  scattered  over  an 
immense  area,  we  have  no  adequate  means  of  concentrating 
our  wealth,  our  men  or  our  polic}'.  Natural  and  artificial 
means  of  concentration,  the  most  varied  and  complete,  will 
be  in  possession  of  the  enemy  and  despotism  will  concen- 
trate their  policy. 

We  must  not  rely  upon  dissensions  in  the  North.  Poli- 
ticians there  have  encouraged  us  to  resist,  aud  have  de- 
clared that  the  army  which  marches  to  conquer  us  musi 
first  pass  over  the  corpses  of  themselves  and  their  partisans. 
Trust  them  not.  AVheu  war  rages  we  shall .  not  have  9 
corporal's  guard  of  determmed  friends  in  that  country.  You 
will  see  that  even  so  bald  a  pretext  as  that  the  South  haa 
fired  the  first  gun,  so  shallow   a  trick  as  that  which  drew 


ROEBUCK.  77 

the  fire  of  Confederate  batteries  on  Fort  Sumter,  will  con- 
solidate the  Northern  populace  in  furious  support  of  tlic 
war.  The  North  is  dividctl  into  two  parties,  truculent  Re- 
publicans and  truckling  Demecrats.  No  party  there  will 
act  upon  the  obvious  truth,  that  when  liberty  is  attacked 
wiih  the  sword  it  can  be  defeivled  only  with  the  sword. 
After  it  shall  be  lost,  through  their  aid  or  aipathy,  some 
Northern  men  may  solicit  j-our  assistancj  to  rescue  it  from 
nn  iron  tyranny  by  windy  speeches  and  ineffectual  votes. 
But  in  the  real  struggle  you  will  stand  alone. 

"Expect  no  aid  from  Europe.  Imagine  not  that  cotton 
Is  king,  or  that  the  necessities  of  commerce  will  bring  En- 
gland or  France  or  any  other  power  to  intervene  for  our 
benelit.  Intervention  must  be  war,  or  it  must  be  futile. 
The  old  nations,  taught  by  experience,  dread  war  and  value 
peace,  Englisli  cotton  manufaclnrers,  having  excessive 
stocks  on  hand,  are  now  in  a  condition  to  be  saved  from 
ruin  by  any  event  that  will  interrupt  the  exportation  of  cot- 
ton from  this  country  for  the  next  three  years.  English 
commerce  will  flourish  by  any  war  in  which  England  takes 
no  part.  English  policy  demands  the  abolition  of  slavery 
and^he  consequent  abridgement  of  the  cotton  culture  on 
tbis  continent — ends  to  be  accomplished  by  the  triumph  of 
the  Noi-tli.  Though  a  division  of  the  Union  may  be  desir- 
able to  her,  as  reducing  a  formidable  power,  yet  the  impover- 
ishment of  the  South  by  war  and  the  necessity  of  employ- 
ing Northern  force  to  keep  a  conquered  people  in  subjec- 
tion, may  be  deemed  almost  an  equivalent.  England  will 
stand  aloof,  and  without  her,  no  other  power  will  inter- 
fere. 

*'I  will  not  attempt  to  appal  you  by  depicting  the  hor- 
rors of  war.  It  is  not  to  cowardice  tliat  I  would  appeal, 
l)nt  to  wisdom.  Indeed  I  would  invoke  you  to  welcome 
all  tlic  evils  of  the  most  terrible  war,  if  through  them  you 
can  be  assured  of  independence  of  the  North.  But  we 
should  underslr.-.id,  in  advance,  that  this  war  wi'l  probably 
be  waged  agaii.st  us  in  the  most  atrocious  si)irlt.  The 
Federal  government,  treating  us  as  rebels,  will  deny  to  us 
the  rights  of  war  and  the  rights  of  humanity.     Their  hos- 


78  ROEBUCK. 

tillties  will  be  hivoc.  It  will  scarcely  be  surprising  if  they 
are  lawless  and  barbarous  enough  to  arm  O'lr  slaves  against 
ns.  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  secession  will  prevent 
them  from  inflicting  the  penalty  of  treason  on  our  soldiers. 
Tliey  will  not  respect  tlie  ordinance,  and,  if  they  refrain 
from  that  outrage,  it  will  be  through  fear  of  our  power — 
a  motive  that  will  operate  equally  with  or  without  seces- 
Bion. 

"A  war  of  prodigious  extent,  waged  by  a  superior 
power  in  a  savage  spirit,  will  finally  exhaust  the  endurance 
of  the  South.  We  shall,  doul)tless,  make  one  brilliant  cam- 
paign, through  the  superior  courage  of  our  people.  Bat 
they  cannot  sustain,  for  more  than  two  years  at  the  utmost, 
the  constant  pressure  of  such  tremendous  odds.  Virginia, 
I  trust,  will  endure,  if  necessary,  until  she  shall  be  made  a 
wilderness.  Doubtless  in  this  great  straggle  she  will  bo 
true  to  her  ancient  character.  But  do  not  expect  other 
Southern  States  to  emulate  her  conduct.  They  will  do 
great  doeds  and  suffer  horrible  afflictions  before  they  will 
surrender  a  good  cause,  but  some  of  them  will  yield  before 
independence  can  be  secured  and  long  before  Virginia  will 
be  subdued.  Her  sufferings  and  her  heroism  will  be  in 
vain. 

"  Whose  imagination  can  fathom  the  depth  of  our  degra- 
dation when  we  shall  have  been  subjugated  by  the  North  ? 
The  war  upon  us  will  never  end.  A  people  who  hate  us 
now  and  who  then  will  have  been  rendered  furious  by  resis- 
tance and  arrogant  by  victory,  will  have  irresistible  power 
to  glut  their  hatred  and  revenge.  They  will  hold  the  South 
by  a  military  tenure.  Taey  will  be  our  masters.  They 
will  be  conquerers  and  we  the  conquered.  Vce  vic!i>t! 
"We  shall  be  ruled  by  satraps,  great  an  1  small.  Oar  gov- 
ernnient  will  be  dissolved,  our  laws  annulled,  our  courts 
suppressed.  G;irrisons,  perhaps  composed  of  our  own 
slaves,  will  occup>y  our  towns  to  overawe  a  people  who  will 
never  again  be  trusted.  It  will  not  be  sufficient  for  them 
to  submit  peacefully  to  the  authority  of  the  conquerors;  to 
avoid  suspicion  and  still  sharper  oppression,  they  must 
fawn  upon  their  tyrants  and  profess  to  be  in  love  with  tkeir 


ROEBUCK.  79 

chains.  They  must  hasten  to  sacrifice  their  institutions, 
their  civil  rights,  their  manhood,  in  order  to  appease  the 
jealousy  of  foreign  rulers.  Their  country  will  be  for  them 
both  a  prison  and  a  charncl  house,  and  among  the  ashes  of 
their  sons  and  brothers  slain  in  the  .war,  tliey  will  brood 
over  the  hopeless  bondage  which  the  war  lias  brought  on 
themselves.  The  soldiers  who  conquer  us  will  be  pensioned  ; 
those  who  defend  us  beggared.  Not  a  voice  in  all  the 
North  will  then  be  raised  to  demand  the  restoration  of  our 
people  to  their  ancient  rights.  The  most  favorable  treat- 
ment proposed  for  them  then  by  any  Northern  man  of 
influence  will  be  so  cruel  that,  if  whispered  now,  it  would 
curdle  your  blood  with  horror.  Those  who  will  think  that 
our  rebellious*  people  deserve  hell  will  deem  it  mercy  to 
consign  them  to  purgatory.  But  I  desist ;  I  believe  that  no 
fancy  can  approach  the  actual  wretchedness  of  a  proud, 
brave,  intelligent  people,  subjugated  by  such  a  power  as  the 
North."  J 

When  Doctor  Fairfax  sat  down,  Mr.  Williams  rose 
again  and  remarked  that  if  no  other  person  desired 
to  speak  he  would  make  a  brief  reply  to  the  last 
speech.     As  no  one  else  rose,  he  proceeded  : 

*'  The  right  of  secession  has  not  been  denied.  That  there 
are  sufficient  causes  for  it  has  not  been  denied.  That  it 
would  render  our  resistance  to  the  North  more  effective  by 
uniting  the  South  has  not  been  denied.  That  independence 
of  the  North  is  the  prize  most  worthy  of  our  exertions  when 
we  are  compelled  to  fight  is  admitted.  But  we  are  to  be 
deterred  from  availing  ourselves  of  these  advantages  of 
secession.  How  ?  You  are  told  that  we  shall  certainly  bo 
conquered.  If  this  be  true,  yet  subjugation  will  scarcely 
be  a  fate  more  dreadful  than  the  perpetual  despotism  to 
which  we  shall  baseJy  submit  by  remaining  in  the  Union. 
At  least,  a  gallant  struggle  for  indepedence  will  save  our 
honor— the  most  precious  heritage  of  a  people.  Bat  it  is 
not  certain  that  the  united  South. will  be  conquered  by  the 
North.  It  is  possible,  but  it  is  not  even  probable.  We 
shall  stand  on  the  defensive.     We  liave  only  to  endure,  and 


69  ROE  B  U  C  K . 

time  will  exhaust  the  euemy.  If  our  vast  territory  renclers 
concentrated  resistance  difficult,  it  renders  subjugition 
impossible.  The  native  courage  of  our  people  aud  tha 
spirit  which  the  cause  of  liberty  inspires  will  overcoaig  an 
immense  superiority  of  mere  numbers.  Oar  fertile  country 
ani  our  laboring  population  will  feed  and  clothe  our  army, 
80  that  neither  money  nor  foreign  commerce  will  be  so 
necessary  to  us  as  to  the  enemy.  Machines  and  navies  aro 
less  needful  to  us  than  to  our  invaders.  Our  white  popu- 
lation can  spare  a  larger  proportion  of  fighting  men  -tlian 
that  of  the  North,  because  our  blacks  will  remain  to  labor. 
If  so  many  millions  of  freemen,  fighting  to  preserve  their 
liberty  and  resolved  to  sacrifice  everything  for  independence, 
shall  be  subjugated,  the  lessons  of  history  are  false.  L3t 
us  not  throw  away  the  ricli  prize  of  success  through  timi  1 
apprehension  of  failure.  This  enterprise  is  dangerous.  It 
must  put  the  endurance  of  all  Southern  people  to  severe 
trial.  Let  them  be  sustained  by  the  hope  of  indepeudeuce. 
Since  we  must  tight,  we  must  incur  tlie  hazard  of  sabjiigi- 
tion.  It  is  vain  to  expect  peace  until  we  show  ourselves 
able  to  resist  the  North.  For  the  sake  of  peace  we  have 
vainly  forborne,  yielded,  solicited,  until  we  are  almost  dis- 
graced. Since  we  must  fight,  let  us  fight  for  indepen- 
dence." 

After  ascertaining  that  no  other  person  desired  to 
speak,  the  chairman  submitted  the  resolution  to  a 
vote  of  the  meeting.  All  the  people  responded 
"  aye,"  except  five  or  six  who  answered  '•  no."  Very 
soon  after  the  result  was  announced  the  citizens  be- 
gan to  move  out  of  the  door,  but  the  movement  was 
arrested  by  the  voice  of  a  boy  who  sat  on  a  table 
Avithin  the  bar,  and  who  began  to  call  out — "  Marlin  1 
Mariin!  a  speech  from  Abram  Marlin  I"  Such  a  call 
always  finds  an  echo  in  a  crowd.  Severat  voices  took 
it  up  and  cried — -'jdarlin!  Marlin!  3Iarlin !"  The 
eyes  of  the  youth  who  led  this  chorus  were  fixed  upon 
a  man  who  stood  on  the  steps  leading  up  to  the  judi- 


ROEBUCK.  81 

cial  bench  with  a  leg  and  an  arm  over  the  banister. 
He  was  dressed  in  coai*se  but  clean  homespun.  IIo 
seemed  about  forty-five  years  of  age.  His  person 
was  rather  tall  and  lank.  His  features  were  rough, 
and  his  hair  hung  down,  long,  straight  and  thin 
around  his  neck.  Under  shaggy  brows  his  grey  eyes 
had  a  restless,  vigilant  motion,  as  if  the  brain  was 
active  and  excitable.  When  the  repetition  of  his 
name  became  emphatic,  though  still  apparently  made 
in  jest,  he  withdrew  his  limbs  from  the  banister  and 
walked  up  the  steps.  Standing  on  the  judicial  plat- 
form, he  turned  his  face  to  the  audience  with  un- 
moved self-possession.     He  then  .began  : — 

"  I  ain't  a  gwine  to  make  a  speech,  my  feller-sinners. 
I  conkln't  say  much  about  that  ere  doctrine  of  secession. 
It  ain't  one  of  the  doctrines  that  I'm  used  to  preach  about, 
I  stick  to  the  doctrines  in  the  good  book,  and  tlieni  doc- 
trines I  always  try  to  make  so  cl'ar  that  the  women  and 
niggers  can  nuderstaud  'em.  But  I've  been  a  ponderin' 
over  this  ere  war  in  the  silent  watches  of  the  night  when 
my  Betsy  was  f;\st  asleep.  I've  looked  up  the  prophets  on 
this  subjec'.  It  rether  looks  to  me  like  we're  a  gwino  to 
fight  the  great  battle  agin  Gog  and  Magog.  Leastways 
that  battle  has  never  been  fou't  yit,  and  so  it  stands  to  rea-  . 
son  that  it's  got  to  be  fou't  sometime.  Now,  in  the  thirty- 
eighth  chapter  of  Ezekiel,it  is  said  unto  Gog — 'thou  shalt 
come  from  thy  place  out  of  the  North  parts,  thou  and  many 
people  with  thee,  all  of  them  riding  upon  horses,  a  great 
company  and  a  mighty  army.'  So  it  stands  to  reason  ef  a 
man  always  keeps  a  figlitin'  agin  the  armies  that  come  out 
of  the  North  parts,  he'll  be  fightin'  on  the  right  side  when 
that  big  he-figirt  of  all  comes  off.  So  I've  been  a  ponderin' 
that  I'd  take  a  chance  in  this  ere  war  agin  the  North. 
Anyways  it  will  be  a  fight  for  Virginny,  and  that's  a  good- 
enough  fight  for  me.  Next  to  my  God,  I'd  go  my  death 
for  old  Virginny.  I'm  rether  dubous  that  I'm  too  old  and 
rheumatized  to  mai-ch  in  the  infantry,  but  ef  I  had  a  hoss 

A* 


82  ROEBUCK. 

I'd  jine  the  calvary.  I  ain't  got  only  one  boss,  and  that's 
a  mnle.  Ef  any  gentleman  would  swap  a  boss  for  that 
mule" 

"You  shall  have  a  horse,"  said  a  voice  from  the 
crowd. 

"Then  count  me  in.  Doctor  Fairfax  says  the  Yankees 
will  whip  us.  "Well,  the  doctor  ain't  a  prophet,  nor  the 
son  of  a  prophet.  Leastways  I  ain't  seed  his  name  thar 
among  the  prophets.  But  one  thing  I  kin  tell  you,  and  I 
have  Scriptur'  for  it,  the  Yankees,  even  if  they  have  Gog 
and  MagQg  to  back  'em,  can't  prevail  agin  the  Lord  of 
Hosts.  Let  us  have  Him  on  our  side  and  we're  safe,  my 
brethren,  in  peace  or  war,  in  this  world  and  the  world  to 
come.  Ef  we  want  him  on  our  side  now^  we  must  go  to 
war  with  pure  hearts  and  in  humble  reliance  on  Him.  We 
must  ask  His  blessing.      Let  us  pray." 

He  knelt  down,  and  stretched  out  his  hands.  His 
sudden  and  unexpected  movement,  and  call  to  prayer, 
took  the  people  by  surprise.  Almost  involuntarily 
they  rose  up  and  stood  in  reverential  attitude,  while 
Marlin  poured  fourth  a  brief  invocation,  so  fervent 
that  his  grotesque  language  could  not  prevent  it  from 
touching  the  hearts  of  men,  and  when  he  ceased  a 
solemn  "  Amen"  was  murmured  iu  all  parts  of  the 
house. 

When  the  meeting  was  over  it  was  found  that  a 
sufficient  number  of  volunteers  had  enrolled  them- 
selves to  constitute  a  company  of  cavalry,  according 
to  the  laws  of  the  State,  and  a  time  was  appointed  for 
the  election  of  officers.  As  it  was  near  sunset,  the 
people  began  to  mount  their  horses  and  start  home- 
ward. When  Hugh  Fitzhugh  was  about  to  pass  out 
of  the  green  for  the  same  pm-pose,  a  number  of  young 
men  smTounded  him,  and  shouting  his  name,  de- 
manded a  speech.  The  clamor  drew  others  about 
him,  and  men  who  had  mounted  their  horses  stopped 


ROEBUCK.-  83 

or  turned  back  in  the  street.  When  he  reached  tho 
top  of  a  stile  he  saw  a  large  audience  standing  in  ex- 
pectation, and  he  found  it  necessary  to  say  a  few 
words.     He  thus  addressed  the  people : — 

"Virginians: — By  that  title  j'ou  arc  bound  to  noble 
thoughts  and  heroic  deeds.  The  time  demands  them  now. 
Discussion  is  ended.  War  is  begun.  The  North  has 
pressed  the  South  to  the  wall.  We  must  defend"  our 
liberty,  arms  in  hand,  or  be  forever  dishonored  and 
enslaved.  If  there  is  a  man  -  among  you  who  would 
surrender  liberty  or  honor  in  exchange  for  life,  no 
blood  of  Virginia  runs  in  his  veins.  The  war  may  be  ter- 
rific. The  enemy  is  powerful  and  malignant.  The  soil  of 
Virginia  may  be  crimson  with  the  blood  of  her  sons  and 
her  foes.  But  her  sons  will  bleed  for  the  honor  of  their 
mother.  Invaders  may  give  your  dwellings  to  the  flames ; 
but  your  children  will  inherit  freedom.  When  the  war 
shall  be  most  dreadful,  remember  the  alternative — bondage. 
Look  to  the  end — independence.  Honor  and  shame — lib- 
erty and  slavery — choose  between  them.  As  you  shall 
choose,  wear  your  fetters  or  your  swords.  Pardon  me, 
Virginians — I  know  your  choice  is  made.  You  are  re- 
solved to  live  and  die  freemen!" 


84  li  0  E  B  U  C  K 


CHAPTER  YIII. 


When  the  sun  had  set  and  all  the  citizens  had  left 
the  village,  excejDt  a  i'ew  who  had  qualified  the  spirit 
of  patriotism  with  the  spirit  of  rye,  three  or  four  of 
the  latter  class  sat  in  the  porch  of  the  Swan  Tavern, 
upon  a  wooden  bench  against  the  wall.  Before  them 
sat  a  young  man  on  a  large,  split-bottomed  arm-chair, 
leaning  back  against  the  banister,  with  his  feet  ele- 
vated. He  was  genteelly  dressed,  though  his  soft  hat 
was  crushed  and  drawn  down  over  a  corner  of  one 
eye.  He  was  small  and  slender.  His  hair  and  mus- 
tache w^ere  black.  His  heavy  eye-lids  hung  aslant 
over  the  pupils,  half  closing  them,  and  there  Avas  a  sen- 
sual, fieshy  fullness  about  his  lower  jaw.  His  name 
was  Baxter.  He  was  the  son  of  a  gentleman  of  high 
character,  who  was  the  clerk  of  the  County  Court, 
and  had  held  the  office  more  than  thirty  years.  The 
son  had  been  carefully  educated,  and  had  in  youth 
shown  quick  parts  and  that  forward  pertness  whicli 
partial  parents  sometimes  mistake  for  precocious  genius. 
When  he  grew  up  to  manhood  he  led  an  idle,  reckless, 
dissolute  life,  studying  the  chemistry  of  juleps  in  bar- 
rooms, the  mystery  of  horse-flesh  at  races,  or  natural 
history  at  faro-banks,  called  in  slang  "  tigers."  He 
had  dauntless  courage  and  a  sort  of  wit  that  made  him 
a  favorite  in  low  company.  He  was  looking  out  from 
under  his  heavy  eye-lids  at  the  faces  before  him  with 
an  expression  that  might  have  been  serious  if  he  had 


ROEBUCK.  85 

been  sober,  but  as  he  was  not,  it  was  comical.  At  length 
he  said,  abruptly — 

"  Bill  Ankrom,  I  have  been  wondering  why  a  fellow 
like  you  volunteered  to  fight  in  this  war.  You  would 
oblige  me  by  telling  me  if  you  know,  yourself* 

"To  keep  the  Yankees  from  abolishing  slavery,  of 
course." 

"  How  many  niggers  do  you  own  V 

"  None  by .     You  know  that  as  well  as  I  do. 

But  if  they  set  the  niggers  free,  who'll  be  below  me  T* 

"  Nobody  can  be  lower,  I  believe.  You  think,  as 
matters  now  stand,  a  white  skin  is  a  patent  of  nobility 
granted  by  God  and  sanctioned  by  law  f 

"  Something  that  a  way,  I  reckon.  Do  you  think  I 
want  my  son  to  black  your  boots  or  my  darter  to  cook 
in  your  f^xther's  kitchen  V 

"  Your  theory  is  that  society  must  rest  on  mudsills, 
and  if  the  black  ones  are  torn  away  white  ones  must 
be  stuck  under.  You  are  a  philosopher,  Bill ;  did  you 
know  that  ?  It  would  be  a  pity  that  a  Yankee  bullet 
should  crack  your  craniology.  But  stick  to  your 
patent  of  nobility — you  have  no  chance  to  get  another. 
And  you,  Bob  Faris,  ai-e  you  going  to  fight  for  the 
same  reason  V 

"  AYell,  I  ain't  jined  yit,  but  I  reckon  I'll  go  in  for 
the  principles  of  free  government." 

"  Bully  for  you.  Bob.  You  call  a  Democratic  gov- 
ernment free,  don't  you  V 

'-  Yes,  I  was  born  a  Dimmicrat." 

"  Wouldn't  you  think  me  a  fool  if  I  went  out  to 
fight  for  the  privilege  of  having  a  batch  of  drunken 
nincompoops  like  you  fellows  on  that  bench  to  govern 
me  ?  That's  your  principle  of  free  government.  It 
has  brought  us  into  a  pretty  muss  in  the  United  States. 


83  ROEBUCK. 

We  have  tried  to  run  a  machine  that  can't  go  right 
unless  you  make  thii-ty  millions  of  people  understand 
the  art  of  government.  It  requires  all  those  Yankees 
away  up  in  Maine  to  understand  the  interests  of  all 
those  Creoles  away  down  in  Louisiana.  You  see  the 
end  of  it,  and  now  you  want  to  fight  for  a  free  gov- 
ernment of  the  same  sort.  You  must  be  very  drunk 
to-day,  Bob.  Now,  Sim.  Franks,  you  ought  to  be  a 
soldier.     Your  skull  is  a  life-insm-ance." 

"  You  take  care  of  youi*  own  skull.  Why  don't 
-you  volunteer  f 

"  Oh,  I  intend  to  be  a  commissaiy.  I  want  to  be 
in  the  eating  and  drinking  department.  I'll  make 
one  big  continental  spree  out  of  this  war." 

"  I  never  thought  you  was  a  coward  afore." 

"  Because  I  am  not  a  coward,  must  I  fight  merely 
for  fun  ?" 

"  I've  seed  you  do  it." 

*•  Well,  here  is  fun,"  said  Baxter,  turning  to  look 
into  the  street.  Two  men  there  sat  on  horseback,  fac- 
ing one  another.  They  had  the  appearance  and  dress 
of  middling  fanners.  One  had  a  red  head  and  the 
hair  of  the  other  was  whity-brown.  They  had  evi- 
dently tasted  the  cup  which  does  inebriate.  Halting 
at  the  same  moment,  they  eyed  each  other  with  di*unken 
defiance,  and  then  engaged  in  a  polite  and  obliging 
conversation,  which  atti'acted  the  attention  of  Baxter. 

"  Sii*,"  said  the  man  of  fiery  top-knot,  "  you  must 
excuse  me,  sir,  but  I  have  been  credibly  informed,  sir, 
that  you  said,  sir,  you  would  whip  me,  sir,  the  first 
time  you  laid  eyes  on  me,  sir." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  yoiu*  information  is  coiTcct,  I  am  happy 
to  inform  you,  sir." 

"  If  you  are  not  blind,  sir,  you  can  lay  eyes  on  me 
now,  sir." 


ROEBUCK.  iJT 

"  If  you  will  do  me  the  favor  to  get  off  youi  horse, 
Bu*,  I  -will  now  do  what  I  promised,  sir." 

"  With  great  pleasure,  sir." 

Tliey  dismounted,  and  giving  their  bridles  to  a  ser- 
vant from  the  tavern,  took  off  their  coats  and  squared 
themselves  for  a  duel  of  fists.  They  approached  each 
other  with  a  parade  of  fairness  and  civility,  thougli 
with  unsteady  gait. 

''  Now  strike  me,  sir,  if  you  please,"  said  Whity- 
brown. 

"  No,  sir,  you  are  under  promise  to  whip  me.  sir. 
Strike  first,  sir." 

The  man  of  threats  accepted  the  invitation,  and  after 
a  flourish  of  fists,  discharged  a  blow  with  all  his  might. 
But  he  missed  his  antagonist  and  fell  upon  the  ground. 

"  Get  up,  sir,  if  you  please,"  said  he  of  the  red  hair, 
and  he  waited  until  his  request  was  obeyed  and  the 
other  belligerent  was  ready  for  a  second  round.  Then, 
with  more  fortunate  aim  than  the  latter,  he  sent  the 
whity-bro wn  head  to  the  ground  again.  After  look- 
ing at  him  in  the  dust  a  moment,  the  other  walked  off 
toward  a  grass  plot  beside  the  road,  and  said — "  Come 
here,  sir ;  that  street  is  dirty,  sir."  The  fallen  belliger- 
ent ai'ose  and  followed  him.  Then  the  fight  continued 
for  some  time  with  various  fortunes,  but  as  both  Com- 
batants were  easily  upset  and  neither  would  strike  a 
dangerous  blow,  very  little  damage  was  done.  At 
last,  when  both  were  weary,  and  the  challenger  or 
threatener  was  down,  his  adversaiy  stood  over  him 
and  said — 

'•  Now  cry  enough,  sir  ;  I'm  sm-e  you've  got  enough." 

"  Never." 

"  Then,  sh*,  you  are  dinink  or  a  fool,  sir.  I  scorn  to 
fight  a  man,  sir,  that's  too  drunk  to  know  when  he's 
whipped,  sir." 


88  ROEBUCK. 

Having  thus  spoken,  he  ^yalked  away  toward  his 
horse,  while  the  prostrate  combatant  called  after  him — 

*'  Maybe  I'm  too  drunk  now,  but  I'll  keep  sober  at 
next  court.     I'll  thank  you  to  meet  me  thenj." 

Baxter  and  the  other  persons  on  the  porch,  who  had 
been  amused  spectators  of  the  bloodless  battle,  now 
descended  into  the  street,  congratulated  the  gentlemen 
on  the  honorable  termination  of  then*  difficulty  and  in- 
sisted that  they  should  shake  hands  and  be  friends. 
Baxter,  suggesting  a  peace-maker  perhaps  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  an  adage  touching  a  "  hair  of  the  dog,"  urged 
them  to  come  into  the  tavern  and  take  a  drink  with 
him  and  his  companions.  Protesting  against  the 
peace,  they  assented  to  the  drink.  Once  in  the  bar- 
room, the  participants  and  spectators  of  the  recent 
conflict  discussed  that  affiiir  in  such  fashion  that 
another  fight  became  imminent.  Consequently  ano- 
ther cup  of  conciliation  became  necessary.  So  they 
wrangled  and  drank  or  drank  and  wrangled,  v>'hile 
Baxter  urged  peace  or  war  or  whiskey,  according  to 
his  fluctuating  humor,  until  darkness  had  long  set- 
tled down  upon  the  village. 

'•  Here  comes  Blind  Pete,"  exclaimed  Baxter,  as  a 
pale,  thin  man,  led  by  a  little  boy,  entered  the  bar- 
room ;  "  come  in,  Pete ;  we'll  make  you  see  stars 
without  your  eyes.     Take  a  drink." 

The  new-comer,  nothing  loth,  condescended  to 
perform  that  ceremony  of  initiation,  and  while  he 
Avas  imbibing  the  liquor,  Baxter  said  : 

"  Who's  your  bail  now,  Pete  ?'' 

"  Oh,  sir,  I  always  gives  the  best  bail  in  the  county." 

"  Yes,  you  go  to  jail  like  a  rogue  and  are  ransomed 
like  a  gentleman,  thanks  to  your  blindness.  Your 
blindness  is  catching,  or  the  gentlemen  could  not 


ROEBUCK.  89 

wink  so  <at  your  rascalities.  But  who's  your  bail 
now,  Pete  ?" 

"  Colonel  Fred." 

'*  Why,  it  was  for  stealing  his  bacon  they  put  you 
in  jail." 

"  That's  the  reason  he  was  bound  to  attend  to  the 
case.     You  see  it  was  his  own  case,  like." 

"  You  are  a  lucky  thief,  Pete.  If  you  had  your 
eyesight  you  would  be  in  the  penitentiary.  But  now 
when  you  steal,  all  the  gentlemen  feel  bound  to  let 
you  off,  though  you  own  land  and  steal  for  the  love 
of  larceny.  Whose  corn  is  to  load  your  cart  to-night, 
Petef 

'•  You  always  will  have  your  joke,  Mr.  Baxter." 

"I  believe  I  will  to-night.     Where's  your  cart?" 

"  At  the  upper  end  of  the  village." 

"And  the  blind  mule  with  it?  Ready,  I  suppose, 
for  your  nightly  tramp  to  collect  provisions  and  forage 
that  the  negroes  steal  and  sell  to  you  for  whiskey." 

"  Night,  you  know,  Mr.  Baxter,  is  the  same  as  day 
to  a  poor  blind  man." 

"  Well,  I  am  going  to  take  »  ride  with  you  to- 
night. Come  along,  boys.  We'll  escort  you  two 
fighting  horsemen  on  your  way  home.  It  is  time 
for  you  to  go.  We'll  celebrate  the  restoration  of 
amicable  relations  between  you  by  a  nocturnal  pro- 
cession, with  that  red -head  for  a  torch-light.  Pete's 
a  dark  lantern  and  shines  only  in  corn-cribs  and 
meat-houses.     Come  on." 

After  one  more  drink  they  all  sallied  out  into  the 
dark.  When  the  horsemen  had  been  helped  into 
their  saddles,  they  all  followed  Pete  to  his  cart.  The 
little  boy,  who  was  Pete's  son,  being  young  and  puny, 
was  carried  along  by  his  father,  because  his  tender 


so  ROEBUCK. 

rears  and  feeble  health  secured  to  him  impunity  like 
that  which  Pete  himself  derived  from  blindnes.-^. 
Baxter  mounted  the  mule  and  ordered  the  rest  of  his 
procession,  except  the  two  horsemen,  to  get  into  the 
crazy  vehicle. "  ''  Ilillo,  Pete,"  he  cried,  "  the  spine 
of  this  mule  -will  split  my  spine  North  and  South,  as 
those  other  mules  are  splitting  the  Union.  Why 
don't  you  feed  him  better  when  corn  costs  you 
nothing  but  the  stealing?  He  has  more  ears  on  his 
head  than  you  ever  put  into  his  trough."  However, 
he  adjusted  his  posture  as  well  as  he  could  to  the 
spinal  ridge  of  the  mule  and  began  to  belabor  that 
patient  anim.al  with  a  heavy  stick  which  he  had 
picked  up.  "  Go  to  the  front.  Torch-light,"  he  cried, 
*'  the  procession  on  wheels  will  follow."  It  did  fol- 
low, but  at  a  slow  pace,  for  the  mule  did  not  resent 
the  heavy  thwacks  he  received.  Baxter,  hoping  to 
accelerate  his  gait,  ordered  his  passengers  to  whoop 
and  yell  in  his  rear.  But  the  mule  never  wagged  an 
ear.  With  such  freaks  as  dninken  folly  promi)ted, 
they  diversified  the  enjoyment  of  theh-  snail-like  jour- 
ney, until  at  last  they  began  to  descend  a  hill.  The 
force  of  gravity  was  too  strong  for  the  knees  of  the 
stubborn  animal,  and  he  started  off  at  a  trot,  to  keep 
out  of  the  way  of  the  cart.  Faster  and  faster  he  went, 
while  Baxter  whipped  and  the  cart  jolted  and  bounced. 
"  Look  out,  boys,"  shouted  Baxter,  "  I'm  going  to 
make  sausage-meat  of  you."  This  benevolent  vrarning 
was  scarcely  uttered  when  mule,  cart  and  passengers 
were  tumbled  c^rer  in  a  promiscuous  wreck  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill.  "Halt  in  front!  Bring  us  the  torch- 
light," cried  Baxter.  Upon  a  careful  analysis  ©f  the 
mass  of  animate  and  inanimate  matter,  it  was  discov- 
ered tliat   no   person  was   hurt   bevond  some   slight 


ROEBUCK.  91 

bruises.  A  mule  is  more  invtilnerable  thnn  Achilles. 
The  repairs  of  the  cart  cletaiiied  the  party  some  thirty 
minutes.  "  I  am  glad  it  is  no  worse,"  said  Baxter ;  "  I 
thought  I  was  sending  you  all  to  Baxter's  Saints'  Rest." 

The  procession  moved  on  mitil  the  mule  stopped 
near  a  barn  and  refused  to  go  farther. 

"  Whose  barn  is  this,  Pete  V  asked  Baxter.  | 

"  I  can't  see,  Mr.  Baxter." 

"  Neither  can  your  mule  see ;  but  he  knows  the 
barn.  Can't  you  tell  whose  corn  you  stole  on  this 
road  1     I'm  sure  the  mule  got  a  bite  here." 

"  Really,  Mr.  Baxter,  I've  been  at  so  many  places 

with  my  cart " 

^  "  Never  mind ;  I  know  this  place  myself  now  ;  it's 
old  Palmer's.  I  see  we  must  stop  with  him.  Come, 
boys ;  let's  rouse  liira  up.  He  is  an  old  Yankee. 
We'll  make  him  drink  to  'Jeff.  Davis  in  some  of  his 
own  liquor." 

"  Agreed  !"  was  the  general  response. 

Leaving  the  boy  with  the  cart  in  the  road,  the  men 
walked  to  the  house,  and  at  their  noisy  summons  ft 
servant,  half-asleep,  came  to  the  door,  and  admitting 
them,  ushered  them  into  the  parlor,  where  they  found 
Mr.  Palmer  and  his  wife.  Their  daughters  had  re- 
tired, but  they  were  waiting  for  the  return  of  Albert, 
who  had  gone  to  a  distant  part  of  the  county.  When 
they  beheld  Baxter  and  his  retinue  entering  the  parlor 
they  were  astounded.  They  stood  in  expectation  of 
an  explanation,  which  Baxter  was  rather  slow  to  give, 
for  the  unexpected  presence  of  a  lady  somewhat 
abashed  him.  In  a  little  while  he  rallied,  and  advanc- 
ing with  an  air  that  was  meant  to  be  both  stately  and 
courteous,  he  offered  the  customary  salutation  to  the 
involuntaiy  host  and  hostess.       He    added:    "Mr. 


92  ROEBUCK. 

Palmer,  I  was  riding  this  way,  and  I  could  not  think 
of  passing  your  house  without  dropping  in  on  you, 
indeed  I  couldn't.  Knowing  your  liospitahle  disposi- 
tion, I  invited  my  friends  to  come  in  with  me.  Let 
me  have  the  honor  to  introduce  them."  Ke  proceeded 
to  call  the  roll,  and  appended  to  each  name  a  brief 
exposition,  as  thus :  '*  Bob  is  a  champion  of  free  gov- 
ernment ;  all  he  owns  in  the  world  is  a  principle,  and 
he  values  it  accordingly ;  he'd  die  for  it.  This  man 
with  a  bonfire  on  his  head — this  woodpecker  has  been 
pecking  that  head  there  that  looks  like  dead  wood,  but 
now,  you  see,  we  are  all  birds  of  a  feather  and  flock 
together.  This  is  a  nobleman,  and  he  carries  liis 
patent  in  his  face,  for  it  was  once  white,  but  the  parch- 
ment is  now  brown,  which  shows  the  antiquity  of  his 
title ;  he  is  descended  from  one  of  those  old  sea- 
rovers  who  made  a  wharf  on  Ararat  Avhen  the  water 
was  up,  but  it  is  not  certain  which  of  them,  after 
Koah,  was  his  ancestor.  This  is  Peter  the  Hermit ;  he 
lives  a  retired  life  in  day-time ;  he  roams  abroad  at 
night,  because  he  stands  on  eyual  rights,  and  he  is 
equal  to  any  of  us  in  the  dark ;  he  has  a  way  of  equal- 
izing property  too,  by  the  stai's  " — and  so  on. 

Mr.  Palmei*  bowed  stiffly  to  the  visitors  and  re- 
quested them  to  be  seated,  he  and  his  wife  setting  the 
example.  Baxter  reclined  at  ease  in  a  large  arm- 
chair. His  followers  remained  standing.  Presently 
he  said :  '•  Mr.  Palmer,  I  was  telling  tiiese  gentlemen 
you  were  as  hospitable  as  a  lord."  Either  this  hint 
or  the  appearance  of  the  guests,  suggested  to  Mr. 
Palmer  that  they  had  come  in  to  be  treated  and  that 
the  shortest  way  to  get  rid  of  them  would  be  to  treat 
them  at  once.  He  said :  '*  Gentlemen,  perhaps  you 
will  do  me  the  honor  of  takius:  somethini2:  to  di'iuk 
with  me." 


roebuck:.  03 

"Perhaps  we  Tvould,"  said  Baxter,  "I  think  ahout 
ten  drops  of  that  fine  old  brandy  n'ould  be  good 
apjainst  the  night  air." 

When  the  host  rose  to  have  the  liquor  and  glasses 
brought  in,  the  hostess  went  gliding  out  of  the  room. 
Fluttered,  if  not  alarmed,  she  had  once  or  twice  risen 
to  retire  but  resumed  her  seat.  Her  movements  were 
still  rectilinear  but  rather  spasmodic.  When  she 
went  out  the  small  remainder  of  Baxter's  diffidence 
also  departed.  When  the  liquor  came  and  began  to 
flow,  his  insolence  llowed  with  full  tide,  "  I  like  your 
brandy.  Palmer,"  he  said,  slapping  that  gentleman  on 
the  shoulder,  *'  fill  again."  He  enforced  the  precept 
by  his  practice,  and  his  companions,  without  much 
urging,  followed  his  example.  Mr.  Palmer  would 
willingly  have  refrained,  but  he  still  hoped  that  every 
glass  would  be  the  last,  and  thinking  it  necessary  to 
keep  the  riotous  crew  in  good  humor  by  politeness, 
he  did  not  refuse  to  drink  with  them.  "  Take  more, 
old  fellow,  fill  up  ;  I  assure  you  the  liquor  is  good," 
said  Baxter  again  and  again.  "  Now,  I'll  give  you  a 
toast.  A  bumper,  Palmer.  A  bumper,  everybody, 
tag-rag  and  all.  Here's  the  health  of  Jeff.  Davis  and 
success  to  the  Confederate  States  of  America.  You'll 
drink  that,  old  fellow." 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Baxter,  with  pleasure,"  replied  Mr. 
Palmer,  and  he  drank  with  the  rest.  Throwing  an 
arm  affectionately  round  his  neck,  Baxter  said  :  "  I  am 
glad,  Israel,  to  find  you  are  one  of  us.  You  must 
volunteer,  indeed  you  must.  To  your  tents,  O  Israel. 
You  are  no  Yankee — d n  the  Yankees." 

"  Of  course,  Mr.  Baxter,  I  go  with  my  State." 

"How's  that'?  Which  State?  None  of  your 
Yankee  tricks.  You  must  have  another  diink.  Fill 
up.     I  have  another  toast  to  proposa" 


04  •  K  O  E  B  U  C  K . 

Wlien  the  glasses  were  full  ho  i)r.>posed — "d n 

the  Yankees."  Mr.  Palmer  set  -lown  his  gls^s  and 
said.  •'  you  must  excuse  me,  Mr.  B:i>:ter." 

**  What!  turning  Yankee  on  us?" 

"  Ko,'but,"  he  added  demurely,  *'•  I  never  curse." 

"Are  you  there,  Israel?  I  beg  )'ardon.  No  gen- 
tleman is  obliged  to  curse  :  no  gentleman  ought  to 
curse,  though  profanity  is  not  as  bad  as  hypocrisy — 
don't  you  think  so,  my  jolly  host?  Well,  I  take  back 
the  bad  word  and  give  you — down  w*ith  the  Yan- 
kees." 

"  I  join  you  now  M'ith  pleasure,  gentlemen,"  said 
^Ii'.  Palmer. 

"  But  it  is  time  for  gentlemen  to  retire,"  said  Bax- 
ter. "  We  have  had  a  good  time  with  you,  Mr. 
Palmer.  Let  us  conclude  with  three  cheers  for  Jeff. 
Davis." 

The  cheers  were  given,  and  Mr.  Palmer  joined  in 
them.  The  irregular  tumult  of  shouts  roused  the 
ladies  from  their  beds,  and  thus  ]Mi'.  Palmer  became 
guilty  of  disturbing  his  family  at  midnight  with  riot 
and  rebellion.  The  visitors  then  shook  hands  with 
him  and  with  each  other,  having  a  confused  notion 
that  they  were  about  to  separate.  Even  Mr.  Palmer  s 
thoughts  began  to  thicken  and  his  lips  to  grow  purple- 
He  followed  the  unmarshalled  aiTay  to  the  door,  and 
iinding  Blind  Pete  in  the  rear,  plucked  his  sleeve  and 
whispered,  '*  come  here  to-morrow."  He  had  some 
previous  knowledge  of  that  darkling  rogue,  by  repute 
at  least,  and  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  his 
l)eculiar  qualifications  might  be  rendered  useful  to 
himself  in  times  of  confusion. 

When  Albert  Palmer  returned  home  that  night, 
discovering  his  father's  condition  and  hearing  of  Bax- 


li  O  E  B  U  C  K  . 


06 


ter's  insolent  conduct,  he  was  mortified  and  eiira^od. 
Long  afterwards  he  showed  his  resentful  recollection 
ol  tlic  insult. 

Baxter,  declining  to  escort  the  two  mounted  men 
further,  turned  the  cait  back  toward  the  village.     He 
took  a  seat  in  it  with  the  others,  and  gave  the  line  by 
which  the  mule  was  driven  to  the  boy.     Almost  over- 
come  with  liquor   and   fatigue,  he   nodded   as  they 
jogged  slowly  along.     But  at  the  end  of  an  hour  he 
roused  hmiself  up  and  said— "boys  we  ai-e  consorting 
with  a  thief,  and  my  mind  misgives  me  that  he  has 
stolen  something  this  very  night  whUe  he  has  been  in 
our  company.     Our  character  is  at  stake.     Pete  must 
be  searched."     That  landed  proprietor  protested  his 
mnocence,  but  it  was  decided  that  a  searc4i  should  be 
made.     His  pockets  were  overhauled  and  very  soon 
one  of  the  party  exclaimed,  "here  it  is— silver  sugai-- 
tongs."     The  article  was  drawn  forth  and  recog-nfzed 
as   one  which  had  been  used  to  transfer  some  lumps 
of  Mr.    Palmer's  sugar   from   a   sUver   bowl   to  the 
glasses  which  he  drank.     "  J  knew  it,"  said  Baxter  . 
"now,  gentlemen,  you  shall  sit  as  a  jury  in  this  case,' 
and  I'll  be  the  court.    To  save  time,  I  anticipate  your 
verdict  and  pronounce  sentence.     Pete  must  be  hung 
forthwith.     If  he  goes  to  jail  some  gentleman  of  the 
county  will  become  bail  for  him  and  that  wiU  be  the 
last  of  the  affair.     Justice  must  not  be  balked  any 
longer.     No  bail  here— he  is  taken  in  the  manner— 
iiang  him  up  with  his  own  line." 

Pete  was  dragged  from  the  cart;  the  line  was  tied 
about  his  neck,  and  Baxter  started  to  look  for  a  tree 
The  criminal  knelt,  prayed,  whined,  wept,  but  his  ex- 
ecutioners  seemed  inexorable.     The  little  boy  cried 
pitiably.   The  tree  was  found  and  the  line  passed  over 


96  ROEBUCK. 

a  limb.  By  that  time  Pete  lay  ou  the  ground,  incapa- 
ble of  speech  or  motion.  "Now,"  said  Baxter,  "you 
incorrigible  scoundrel,  you  see  the  end  of  all  your 
crimes.  Nothing  can  save  your  life  but  the  mercy  of 
this  honorable  court.  You  have  stolen  corn  by  the 
cart-load.  You  have  carried  away  pigs,  and  choked 
the  innocent  creatures  lest  their  piteous  cries  should 
reveal  your  theft.  You  have  robbed  hen-roosts, 
treacherously  tickling  the  toes  of  your  victims  to  pre- 
vent them  from  cackling.  You  have  debauched  the 
niggers,  wasting  w^hiskey  on  theu*  degraded  revels. 
Worst  of  all,  you  have  pilfered  the  sugar-tongs  of  a 
pious  Puritan  and  compromised  the  characters  of  all 
these  gentlemen  who  had  condescended  to  ride  in 
yom*  rascally  cart.  What  have  you  to  say  why  the 
sentence  of  death  shall  not  be  forthwith  executed '?" 

"  Spare  me,  good  gentlemen,  and  I'll  never  " 

"Make  no  promises,  Pete.  Nature  will  break 
them.  You  are  a  born  rogue.  But,  with  the  con- 
Beut  of  the  jury,  I  will  postpone  this  execution  until 
to-moiTow  night,  at  twelve  o'clock." 

Pete  sat  up. 

"  More :  we  will  let  you  go  free  of  punishment  al- 
together." 

Pete  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  But  upon  this  condition.  You  shall  go  to  Mr. 
Palmer  to-morrow,  deliver  the  sugar-tongs  to  him, 
and  tell  him  that  you  stole  them,  and  that  we  com- 
pelled you  to  return  them." 

"I  will,  gentlemen,  I  will." 

"  I  don't  rely  on  your  promise.  But  if  you  fail, 
you  shall  be  hung  to-morrow  night.  If  you  do  as  I 
command  you,  it  will  rest  with  Mr.  Palmer  to  prose- 
cute you,  if  he  pleases." 


nOEBUCK.  97 


CHAPTER  IX. 

POOR  WinTES  NEAR  ROEBUCK. 

WiiEx  Abraham  Marlin  returned  home  at  eveiiiug 
from, the  village  upon  his  mule,  he  found  his  wife, 
Betsy,  prepai-ing  the  homely  supper,  his  son  Mark 
closing  up  the  cooper's  shop,  and  his  daughter,  Eliza, 
a  buxom,  red-c'heeked  girl  of  fifteen,  milking  the 
cow.  Betsy,  the  wife  and  mother,  was  a  woman  of 
laa^e,  lean  frame,  with  a  square  head  and  features 
strongly  marked.  Plain  tnith  and  decisive  energy 
were  traced  in  every  line  of  her  countenance.  Her 
di-esg  was  coarse,  though  neat,  and  her  large  hands 
were  hardened  by  domestic  industry.  For  forty 
years  she  had  known  poverty  without  repining  for  a 
single  hour.  She  accepted  hei-  lot  in  life  with  cheer- 
fulness, and  encountered  its  diffi<;ulties  with  resolu- 
tion. Her  chief  care,  as  it  was  her  husband's  also, 
was  to  train  up  her  children  in  habits  of  industiy  and 
vu-tue.  The  parents  were  both  illiterate,  but  the  es- 
sential principles  of  a  good  life  are  learned  without 
research,  and  taught  without  books. 

Abraham  Avas  received  in  his  humble  cabin  with  as 
much  respect  and  affection  as  if  he  had  been  the  most 
illustrious  of  men.  After  supper  he  related  to  his 
family  the  events  of  the  day  at  the  village,  but  with- 
out mentioning  the  part  he  had  performed,  except  the 
single  fact  that  he  had  promised  to  volunteer  as  a 
private  in  the  company  of  cavalry.     When  he  stated 

5 


98  ROEBUCK 

that  circumstance,  lie  looked  at  his  wife  as  if  he  felt 
much  anxiety  to  ascertain  the  impression  it  made  on 
her  mind.  He  was  accustomed  to  consult  her  about 
eveiy  impprtant  step  in  life,  but  here  was  one,  of  the 
last  importance  to  them  all,  which  he  had  taken  with- 
out knowing  her  opinion. 

''  You've  done  right,  Abraham,"  she  pronounced 
decisively. 

^  "  Well,  Betsy,  I  thought  you'd  say  so,  from  our 
talk  last  night,  but  I  couldn't  be  easy  in  my  mind  till 
I'd' tell  you  all  about  it,  and  hear  how  it  would  look 
to  you  then." 

''  You've  done  right,  Abraham.  It's  very  hai'd  on 
us,  but  you  ought  to  fight  for  Yirginny." 

"  But,  Betsy,"  he  said  with  some  hesitation,  '•  I've 
got  to  furnish  a  hoss,  and  I've  agreed  to  swap  the 
mule  for  one." 

"  We  can't  vrell  spare  the  mule.  But,"  she  added 
after  some  reflection,  "  the  gTOund  is  nearly  all 
plowed.  We  must  git  along  with  the  hoe  and  the 
spade.     It  ^vill  be  more  work,  but  we'll  do  it." 

"  I  reckon  you  could  bon-ow  a  mule  sometimes  few 
half  a  day." 

"  YtVll  work,  Abraham,  while  you  fight." 

Dm-ing  this  conversation  Mark  was  at  first  silent 
and  attentive  ;  then  he  became  excited  and  even  agi- 
tated. He  sat  on  a  rough  stool  near  the  chimney. 
Becoming  restless,  he  rose  and  walked  to  the  door  ; 
then  he  went  back  and  sat  down.  His  eyes  fixed 
M'ith  eager  interest  now  upon  his  father's  face,  and 
now  upon  his  mother's,  attracted  her  notice. 

"  Well,  Mark,"  she  asked,  "  what  are  you  thinking 
about  r ' 

"  Can't  I  volunteer  too  ?"  he  exclaimed  with  flash- 
ing eyes. 


ROEBUCK  99 

"  God  bless  the  boy !"  said  the  mother,  "  if  he  was 
a  year  or  two  older,  ^ve  might  have  two  soldiers  to 
fight  for  our  country." 

"  Older  I  "Why  not  now  ?  I'm  big  enough,  mother  ; 
I'm  strong  ;  I'm  healthy ;  I'm  active.  Why  not 
now  ?" 

This  was  the  first  intimation  the  parents  had  re- 
ceived of  Mark's  vehement  desire  to  become  a  soldier. 
The  certainty  of  war  was  too  recent  to  have  caused 
much  discussion  in  that  secluded  cabin,  and  he  had 
not  disclosed  to  his  parents  his  notion  of  fighting  his 
way  up  to  the  rank  of  a  gentleman  whenever  a 
patriotic  Avar  should  occur.  They  looked  at  each 
other  in  doubt,  and  sat  revolving  the  question  in  their 
mintls.     At  length  Abraham  said — 

"  Mai'k,  it  won't  do  for  you  and  me  both  to  leave 
your  mother  and  sister." 

"  If  our  country  needs  you  both,"  said  Betsy,  *'  I'll 
take  care  of  Eliza,  and  our  Heavenly  Father  will  take 
cai'e  of  us  all." 

"I  wish  I  w^as  a  man,"  exclaimed  Eliza,  "I'd  be  a 
soldier." 

"  But,  Mark,  we  ain't  got  but  one  boss,"  said  the 
father. 

"  Let's  see,  Abraham ;  don't  the  government  give 
bosses  to  the  cavahy  ?" 

"  No  ;  I  larn  the  way  is  for  every  man  to  fetch  his 
own  boss,  and  the  government  to  pay  so  much  a  day 
for  the  use  of  him." 

"  Well,"  said  Mark,  after  ruminating  for  a  long 
time  on  this  obstacle,  "I  don't  know  how  to  get  ano- 
ther horse.  But,  father,  if  only  one  of  us  can  go, 
don't  you  think  you  had  better  stay  at  home  and  let 
me  go  ?  You  will  be  of  more  use  at  home,  and  I  can 
stand  a  soldier's  life  better  than  you." 


100  ROEBUCK. 

"  You  forgit,  Mark,  that  I've  promised  to  go.  My 
word  is  oiit." 

"  I  had  forgot  tliat.  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  give  it 
up.  Well,  mother,  I'll  take  care  of  yoii  and  Eliza. 
I'll  be  of  some  use  if  I  help  tou  to  spare  father  for 
the  war.     But  if  I  only  had  a  horse  I" 

The  next  morning  Mark  and  his  father  were  in  the 
little  yard  before  the  cabin,  discussing  a  proposition 
which  the  son  had  brought  forward,  to  the  effect  that 
he  would  volunteer  for  infantry  service.  Tne  cavalry 
was  so  much  more  agreeable  to  the  taste  and  views 
of  the  young  man  that  at  first  he  thought  of  nothing 
else,  and  in  the  agitation  of  the  previous  evening  it 
had  not  occuiTed  to  him  that  he  couldbe  a  soldier\vith- 
out  a  horse.  But  it  came  into  his  mind  at  night, 
while  he  lay  in  bed,  wakefully  turning  the  problem 
that  had  baffled  him  inside  out  in  search  of  a  solu- 
tion. In  the  morning,  although  extremely  reluctant 
to  abandon  the  hope  of  serving  in  cavaliy,  he  an- 
nounced his  new  plan.  While  it  was  under  discussion, 
Colonel  Fairfax  and  his  daughter  Julia  rode  up  before 
the  cabin,  followed  by  a  servant,  who  led  a  saddled 
horse.  They  saluted  the  elder  and  younger  Marlin 
with  cordial  kindness,  and  when  Mrs.  Marlin,  hearing 
their  voices,  came  out,  they  had  many  pleasant  words 
for  her.  After  a  few  minutes  had  been  given  to  the 
chat  of  compliments,  Colonel  Fairfax  said  to  Abraham : 

"  I  heard  of  your  remarks  in  the  court-house  yes- 
terday, and  of  your  offer  to  volunteer  if  you  could 
get  a  horse.  I  am  too  old  to  bo  a  soldier  myself,  and 
I  wish  you  to  ride  the  horse  I  have  brought,  as  my  sub- 
stitute. We  have  long  been  friends,  and  I  hope  you 
will  not  refuse  to  use  my  horse.  Lead  him  up  here, 
John." 


noKr»u(^rv.  loi 

"  Thnnk  von,  colonel  :  you're  mig*biy  kind  ;  but  I've 
made  a  baro^ain  for  a,  hoss."       ' 

'•  I  heard  of  that  tpo.  It  wa^i  when  you  offered  in 
the  court-house  to  swap  your  mule  for  a  horse,  and 
ponie  one  said  you  should  have  a  horse.  Bat  your 
fiunily  cannot  do  without  the  mule." 

'•  My  word's  out,  colonel." 

"  Who  was  the  person  who  promised  you  the  horse?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  didn't  see  him.  I  jist  hearn  his 
voice." 

"  Perhaps  he  will  not  come  forward  with  the  horse." 

"  Well  now,  colonel,  do  you  think  there's  sich  a  per- 
son in  the  county '? .  Is  there  any  slch  a  gentleman  as 
wouldn't  make  his  word  good  ?" 

''  We  cannot  tell.  You  had  better  make  sure  of  a 
horse.  You  will  do  me  a  great  favor  by  accepting 
mine." 

'•  I  must  let  the  man  have  the  mule,  colonel,  ef  he 
comes  up  to  his  bargain,  and  then'  I'll  have  a  hoss ; 
much  obliged  to  you,  though,  colonel,  all  the  same. 
Ef  he  don't  come  I'll  swap  with  you,  that  is,  ef  we 
kin  agree." 

"  Really,  Abraham,  T  feel  much  disappointed.  I 
wish  to  do  something  for  the  war  and  for  you." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on,  Mark  eyed 
the  horse  that  was  in  want  of  a  rider,  while  he  was 
in  want  of  a  horse,  and  his  head  was  busy  with  the 
question  how  these  two  wants  might  be  supplied  hon- 
estly by  one  operation,  beneficial  to  the  cavalry  ser- 
vice. Julia  had  no  suspicion  of  his  desire  to  obtain 
the  horse  for  his  own  use,  but  she  was  always  ready 
to  say  a  kind  word  to  every  one. 

"  Mark,"  said  she,  with  her  sweet  smile,  "  you  will 
soon  be  old  enough  to  fight  for  our  country  too,  and 
I  ara  sure  you  will  be  a  gallant  soldier." 


102  ROEBUCK. 

*♦  T  am  oM  rnough  nou',  Miss  JiiIki.** 

*'  Are  you  ei^jhteen  ?  I  .im  told  that  is  the  proper 
age." 

"  I'm  only  seventeen,  ma'am,  but  I  can  fic,^l>t  in  a 
good  cause." 

"  You  are  a  brave  fellow,  Mark.  Do  you  bear  h'mi, 
papa  V 

"  I  do ;  but  vre  must  not  let  these  brave  boys  go 
into  the  army  too  soon.  The  countiy  may  need 
them  next  year  or  the  year  after,  and  we  must  not 
grind  the  seed  corn." 

"  I  believe  I  can  stand  the  service,  colonel,"  said 
Mark. 

"  ])o  you  really  wish  to  go  as  a  soldier?"  asked  the 
colonel. 

*•'  My  mind  is  made  up  to  go,  sir,  if  my  parents 
consent." 

'"  But  the  authorities  would  not  let  a  youth  of 
seventeen  be  mustered  in." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?"  asked  Mark,  with  surprise. 

."  I  do  indeed." 

"Then,"  replied  Mark,  after  thinking  a  moment, 
*'  I'll  go  and  fight  on  my  own  hook.  Some  of  the 
boys  will  let  me  mess  with  them,  and  I  can  always 
get  a  gun  when  there  is  to  be  a  battle." 

"Ai'e  you  so  resolved']" 

•'  I  am  resolved  to  be  a  soldier  in  this  war." 

"  Have  you  a  horse  '?" 

"  No,  sir ;  for  that  reason  I  am  going  into  the  in- 
fantry." 

"  Would  you  prefer  cavalry  service '?" 

'■  Indeed  I  would,  colonel ;  I  would  like  it  above 
all  things." 

"  Then  you  shall  have  this  horse,  since  your  father 
refuses  to  take  him." 


•       K  O  E  B  U  C  K  .  103 

^  But  I  am  not  able  to  pay  for  him.'* 

"  I  do  not  expect  to  be  paid  for  him.  You  shall 
accept  him  as  a  gift." 

*'  Thank  yon,  colonel,  hut  I  cannot  take  him  so." 

"  Why  not,  INIark  ?" 

"We  don't  accept  gifts  of  such  value  when  wq 
can  make  no  return.  It  is  a  rule  I've  learned  from 
my  parents."" 

*"  Why,  Mark,"  said  Julia,  "  you  are  as  independ- 
ent as  a — as" 

"As  a  gentleman,  you  would  say,  maybe,  Miss 
Julia  ?" 

"  But  consider,  papa  wants  to  give  the  horse  to  the 
public  service,  not  to  you  alone.  All  his  property  be- 
longs to  our  country  at  her  need.  You  may  surely 
help  him  to  use  it  for  our  common  defence." 

"  In  any  way  consistent  with  my  .own  honor — I 
mean  no  offence.  Miss  Julia — I  would  be  glad  to 
do  so." 

"  Mark,  you  are  an  obstinate  young  fellow,  and  I 
have  a  mind  to  quarrel  with  you." 

"  Not  for  being  honest.  Miss  Julia ;  not  for  being 
independent.  What  are  we  to  fight  for  but  independ- 
ence '?" 

"Then  let  me  sell  you  the  horse,"  said  Colonel 
Fairfax,  "you  may  pay  me  for  him  when  it  suits 
you." 

"  But  I  may  never  be  able.  Would  it  be  right,  colo- 
nel, to  take  credit  without  a  prospect  of  being  able  to 
pay  ?     I  may  be  killed  or  die  in  the  service." 

"  Then  the  horse  will  remain,"  said  the  colonel,  half 
provoked  and  lialf  amused  by  these  objections. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  replied  IMark,  ^'  and  then  you  would 
^t  nothing,  or  my  father  would  distress  himself  and 


104  ROEBUCK. 

pinch  the  family  to  pay  you.  There  is  no  need  of 
taking  these  risks,  colonel,  for  I  can  serve  in  the  in- 
fantry." 

But  Mrn'k  could  not  repress  a  sigh,  and  Julia  saw 
glances  exchanged  between  him  and  his  mother  that 
expressed  the  chagrin  of  the  boy  and  the  sympathy  of 
tlie  woman. 

"Come  here,  if  you  please,  Mrs.  Marlin,"  she  said, 
"  I  think  you  and  I  can  arrange  this  matter.  Men  are 
so  wrong-headed,  you  know.  Mama  owes  you  some- 
thing for  weaving?'' 

'•  Xot  much.  Miss  Julia." 

"  But  we  shall  want  more  weaving  done." 

*•'  I  have  a  piece  of  my  own  in  the  loom  that  I  would 
sell,  Miss  Julia." 

''  Then  consider  it  sold.  Xow,  there's  your  account 
against  us  for  weaving,  and  there's  the  price  of  the 
piece  in  the  loom,  and  there  will  be  the  weaving  we 
want.  Mark,  the  horse  is  as  good  as  paid  for  already. 
Papa  consents,  your  mother  consents — don't  shake 
your  obstinate  head.  Your  mother  shall  not  be  dis- 
tressed about  the  little  balance  that  will  be  due  for  the 
horse.  You  can  send  her  yom*  pay  as  a  soldier,  and  it 
will  amount  to  the  price  of  a  horse  before  you  have  a 
tempting  chance  to  shoot  or  be  shot  at.  Come,  the 
whole  business  is  settled  between  you  and  me,  is  it  not, 
Mrs.  Marlin  ?" 

'•  Mother,"  said  Mark,  "  do  you  think  this  would  be 
rghtr' 

'•  Yes,  my  son  ;  I  think  we  mn.y  do  as  Miss  Juiia 
says." 

*'  Then  I  accept  the  horse  with  many  thanks  to  you, 
colonel,  and  to  ^Miss  Julia." 
^  "  Oh  yes,  Mai'k,  the  women  aie  worth  more  than 


ROEBUCK.  105 

the  men  to  carry  on  a  righteous  war.  We  have  head?, 
Mrs.  Marlin,"  she  added,  laughing  and  shaking  her 
own  pretty  head. 

"  And  hearts,  too,"  said  the  colonel,  smiling ;  "  but 
now  I  must  use  what  influence  I  can  to  have  Mark  ac- 
cepted as  a  soldier." 

When  this  sale  had  been  negotiated  with  so  much 
jockeying  and  feminine  art,  and  the  price — made  small 
by  more  cunning  mediation  on  the  part  of  Julia — had 
been  agreed  on,  Colonel  Fairfax  and  his  daughter  took 
leave  of  the  preaching  cooper  and  his  family.  They 
spent  a  great  part  of  the  day  in  riding  about  among 
their  poor  neighbors,  and  distributing  some  of  that 
property  which  the  colonel  held  as  a  trust,  and  of  that 
happiness  which  natures  rich  in  cheerful  goodness  dif- 
fuse like  the  fi-agrance  of  flowers.  In  the  course  of 
their  ride  they  called  on  Mrs.  Fitzhugh,  the  mother  of 
Hugh,  at  Willowbank,  her  place  of  residence.  It  was 
about  two  miles  from  Marlin's  cabin,  and  if  the  reader 
consents  to  make  that  little  journey  with  them,  we  too 
will  go  to  Willowbank. 


lOo  ROEBUCK. 

CHAPTER    X. 

AVILLOWB.VNK. 

The  visitor,  in  .ipproaching  the  old  mansion  of  Wil- 
lowbank  from  the  highway,  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
white  building  through  nimierons  trees,  Hecked  with 
the  opening  leaves  of  spring.  Near  the  house  a  few 
scattered  sm-vivors  of  the  original  forest,  such  as  the 
great  elm  with  triple  tnink,  the  far-branching  oak  and 
round-topped  walnut,  stood  among  large  old  trees 
which,  in  the  rings  about  their  hearts,  kept  a  calendar 
of  the  age  of  the  family  which  planted  them.  At  the 
foot  of  a  sloping  bank  before  the  mansion  gi-ew  a 
great  weeping  willow,  with  its  long  slender  twigs  and 
dark  green  leaves  dropping  in  stately  sadness. 

The  house  was  a  long  building  of  two  stories, 
framed  of  wood,  weather-boarded  and  painted  white. 
There  was  a  wide  porch  along  the  entire  front.  The 
old-fjishioned  chimneys  were  built  outside,  and  at  each 
end  of  the  house.  The  rooms  were  large  and  the  win- 
dows small.  In  a  wide  hall  at  the  middle  of  the  build- 
ing was  a  flight  of  stairs  starting  at  one  side  of  the 
hall,  and  near  the  top,  making  a  rectangular  turn  upon 
a  broad  landing,  with  massive,  square  posts,  heavily 
capped.  Over  the  spacious  fii-e-pla<jes  were  high^ 
wooden  mantel-pieces,  adorned  with  an  infinity  of 
mouldings  and  with  rosettes  and  other  figures  which 
commemorated  the  taste  of  that  Fitzhugh  who  erected 
the  mansion  in  the  last  centmy.  It  was  then  regarded 
as  a  grand  establishment,  for  it  was  finer  than  most 


ROEBUCK.  107 

of  its  neighbors,  and  was  the  seat  of  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal fomilies  of  the  coimty.     Time  gnawed  silently 
upon  the  Avoodwork,   but   in   that   community  time 
wrought  few  changes  of  ideas  or  social  relations  in  the 
lapse  of  only  two  or  three  generations.     The  family 
i^etained  its  respectability,  and  the  house  was   still  re- 
garded by  all  the  county  round  as  a  grand  establish- 
ment, notwithstanding  that,  since  a  railroad  was  made 
through  the  county,  some  antique  notions  had  been 
put  to  flight,  and  some  more  costly  and  elegant  dwell- 
ings had  been  erected  in  the  neighborhood.    The  idea 
of  grandeur  attached  to  the  place  descended  as  an 
heir-loom  in  the  family,  excluding  envy  of  modern 
rivals  and  preventing  projects  of  improvement.     The 
perfection  even  of  the  trees  planted  by  a  former  gene- 
ration, took  its  place  among  the  domestic  traditions, 
and  though  new  ones  might  have  improved  the  pros- 
pect, they  could  not  flatter  the  pride  of  ancestry.    The 
old  furniture  was  retained,  under  the  influence  of  simi- 
lar sentiments.     The  tall,  square,  eight-day  clock  in  ] 
the  hall,  with  iron  weights,  brass,  wheels  and  lunar  I 
face,  could  not  give  place  to  a  modern  time-piece,  for  it  ' 
had  measured  the  ages  of  many  members  of  the  family, 
second  by  second,  from  birth  until  death.     The  quaint 
old   bedsteads   had^   been   Avitnesses    of    the    births, 
bndals  and  deaths  of  several  genemtions  of  Fitzhughs! 
In  the  old  presses  were  piles  of  liome-made  coverlets 
and  gay  silk  dresses  that  would  stand  on   end,  with 
other  relics  of  the  thrift  or  fashion  of  a  primitive  aris- 
tocracy.   A  gourd  hung  over  a  cedar-bucket  of  di'ink- 
ing  water  on  a  shelf  at  the  back-door,  but  there  was 
silver  in  the  side-board.     The  many  old  things  about 
the  old  house  could  not  be  exchanged  for  shining 
novelties  without  rending  the  very  roots  of  the  family 
tree. 


108  ROEBUCK. 

As  Colonel  Fairfsix  and  his  daughter  saw  Mrs. 
Fitzhugh,  the  widowed  tenant  of  this  habitation, 
walking  in  her  garden  with  the  support  of  a  tall  cane, 
she  might  have  seemed  a  feeble  woman  of  sixty  or 
more,  though  she  was  several  years  under  tliree  score. 
She  was  pale  and  thin,  but  her  form  was  not  bowed^ 
and  her  features  were  strongly  marked  with  lineaments 
of  pride.  She  had  been  fur  many  years  a  conhrmed 
invalid.  But  a  vigorous  and  cultivated  intellect,  with 
indomitable  will,  resisted  the  inroads  of  disease,  and 
from  year  to  yeai*  she  fought  off  death.  The  pride  that 
was  written  on  her  brow  seldom  escaped  from  her 
tongue.  It  was  neither  boastful  nor  scornful.  Within 
her  breast  it  was  strong  in  all  forms,  but  especially  as 
the  pride  of  family.  Her  proudest  and  yet  her  weak- 
est passion  was  her  l6ve  for  h^er  only  son,  Hugh. 

The  place  on  which  she  resided — a  plantation  of 
considerable  extent — ^tith.  fifty  or  sixty  slaves,  de- 
scended to  him  at  the  death  of  his  father.  The  wid- 
owed mother  of  an  infant  son,  becoming  sole  guardian 
of  his  person  and  estate,  devoted  herself  thencefoith  to 
his  nurture  and  education.  She  so  managed  his  estate 
as  to  keep  it  entu-e  and  wifhout  debt,  while  defraying 
the  expenses  of  his  education  a^id  travels,  but  a  woman 
and  an  invalid  could  do  no  more.  Tiie  slaves,  missing 
the  authority  of  a  man  above  overseers,  became  negli- 
gent and  some  of  them  dissolute.  The  plantation 
needed  repau's,  although  the  gi'ounds  about  the  house, 
being  under  the  eye  of  Mrs.  Fitzhugh,  were  kept  with 
taste  and  care.  Hugh,  first  as  an  infant,  then  as  a 
student,  and  finally  as  a  traveler,  had  been  unable  to 
attend  to  liis  estate  in  person,  and  after  his  retui-n 
home,  he  neglected  it.  For  two  or  thi'ee  yeai-s  he  suf- 
fered all  things  to  remain  or  to  go  backward,  as  if  he 


ROEBUCK.  109 

were  still  absent,  whilst  he  aiimsed  himself  with  books 
or  hunting  or  fishing,  or  any  idle  sport  that  fell  in  his 
way.  Thas  it  was  that  the  expectation  of  his  friends 
had  been  disappointed,  and  his  name  in  the  county 
began  to  wear  the  stain  of  thriftless  indolence  ;  for  it 
was  thought  that  his  inheritance  imposed  active  duties. 
His  mother  felt  that  he  was  sinking  below  the  require- 
ments of  his  name,  and  that  the  son  of  such  ancestors 
as  his — ancestors  whom  her  exaggerated  family  pride 
ranked  only  a   little  below  a  line  of  heroes — 

should  imitate  theii*  useful  and  honorable  lives.  But 
her  afiection  was  too  indulgent  to  chide  him  and  she 
could  only  wait,  as  she  did,  for  the  blood  to  show  itself 
When  she  found  that  the  prospect  of  war  had  roused 
his  latent  energy,  and  that  he  had  volunteered  as  a 
soldier,  she  suffered  a  violent  conflict  of  emotions. 
When  he  was  to  be  exposed  to  the  hardships  and  haz- 
ards of  war,  a  mother's  love  for  an  only  child,  her  over- 
weening care  for  the  son  whom  she  had  reared  so  ten- 
derly, and  her  lonely  widowhood,  which  might  be 
reiidered  utterly  desolate  by  the  loss  of  him,  made  the 
sacrifice  almost  too  giievous  for  her  to  bear.  Yet 
she  Avas  conscious  that  to  see  him  remain  at  home  in 
ignoble  sloth,  while  others  less  nobly  obliged  to  duty, 
according  to  her  ideas,  marched  to  the  field,  would  be 
intolerable  to  her  pride.  Then  she  exulted  in  the  high 
qualities  which  she  attiibuted  to  his  action.  She  was 
proud  to  feel  that  the  honor  of  his  family  was  vindi- 
cated in  him.  Her  devotion  to  Virginia,  second  only 
to  her  ruling  passion,  brought  her  patriotism  to  the 
support  of  hfci-  pride.  Though  every  word  was  as  a 
drop  of  blood  from  her  heart,  yet  with  unwavering 
resolution  and  tearless  eyes  she  encouraged  her  son  to 
pm-sue  the  path  which  he  had  chosen. 


110  ROEBUCK. 

When  she  entered  the  house  and  received  her  vis- 
itors, she  greeted  Colonel  Fairfax  with  high-bred  but 
rather  antiquated  coiu-tesy,  almost  too  ceremonious  foi* 
friends  so  intimate.  But  she  kissed  Julia  with  fi-ank, 
cordial,  womanly  warmth.  ''  How  very  glad  1  am  to 
see  you,  my  dear  Julia,"  she  said ,  "  you  always  make 
me  happy,  and  you,  colonel,  are  kind  and  thoughtful 
in  visiting  me  to-day.  I  regi*et  that  Hugh  is  not  at 
home  to  see  you,  but  he  is  absent  attending  to  the 
business  that  now  engages  his  time." 

*'  Yes  ;  his  new  company,"  replied  the  colonel ;  *'  I 
may  well  call  it  his  company,  for  he  has  been  most 
energetic  and  influential  in  forming  it,  and  from  many 
things  which  I  heard  yesterday,  I  am  sure  he  will  be 
its  captain.  Men  begin  already  to  recognize  in  him 
tjie  qualities  which  they  demand  in  their  leaders — 
decision,  courage,  ability.  I  congratulate  you,  my 
dear  madam,  upon  being  the  mother  of  such  a  son." 

Mrs.  Fitzhugh  did  not  reply  at  once.  The  subject 
itself  excited  feelings  which  she  could  not  easily  con- 
trol, and  the  praises  bestowed  by  her  most  esteemed 
friend  upon  her  son  melted  her  pride.  Tears  filled 
hev  eyes,  and  in  spite  of  her  efiorts  to  restrain  them, 
one  or  two  trickled  down  her  cheeks.  But  she  checked 
them  and  she  did  not  again,  during  this  interview, 
give  way  to  maternal  weakness. 

"  I  trust  Hugh  will  do  his  duty,"  she  said  at  last 
with  a  firm  voice. 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  Julia,  "  to  see  you  able  to  leave 
your  room." 

"  This  is  no  time  to  be  sick,  Julia,"  she  replied ; 
men  and  women,  old  and  young,  we  are  all  needed  for 
the  defence  of  Virginia." 

"  That  is  true,"  rem^-ked  the  colonel  j  "  Virginia 


ROEBUCK.  Ill 

will  be,  no  doubt,  the  chief  battle-ground  of  this  war, 
and  it  may  be  a  war  of  many  battles.  I  hope  we  shall 
be  able  to  save  our  independence,  but  it  must  be  at  a 
terrible  cost.  From  the  su[>erior  power  of  the  Korth, 
the  South  must  be  by  far  the  greater  sufferer.  We 
must  expect  Virginia  to  be  penetrated  by  inva.sion^ 
and,  perhaps,  completely  overrun.  Our  minds  should 
be  prepared  for  unlimited  sacrifice." 

"  Let  it  be  unlimited  then,"  said  Mrs.  Fitzhugh, 
"  if  the  North  is  cruel  enough  to  exact  it  and  if  it  is 
necessary  to  secure  our  independence.  I  am  ready 
to  begin  with  the  dearest  sacrifice  a  mother  can 
make." 

"  Unfortunately,"  replied  the  colonel,  "  I  have  no 
son  to  offer  to  our  country.  But  you  and  I  and  all 
who  have  property  must  be  prepared  to  part  with  it 
freely.  Even  our  homes  may  be  lost  for  a  time.  Of 
course,  if  invasion  reaches  us,  many  of  our  slaves  will 
leave  us  or  possibly  be  enticed  away.  In  other  re- 
spects, we  may  hope  that  those  who  have  been  our 
brethren  will  conduct  the  war  against  us  according  to 
civilized  and  humane  usage,  but  in  respect  to  slaves, 
the  origin  of  the  war  leaves  no  probability  of  forbear- 
ance." 

"  Your  servants,  colonel,  will  not  leave  you  surely, 
so  well  treated  and  so  judiciously  ruled  have  they 
been.     How  can  they  be  better  off?" 

"  Yet  many  of  tliem  doubtless  will  hasten  to  the 
untried  pleasures  of  freedom.  They  are  easily  de- 
luded. If  I  thought  them  capable  of  judging  wisely 
for  themselves,  I  would  not  feel  justified  in  holding 
them  as  slaves." 

"  I  cannot  consider  them  so  ungrateful  or  so  un- 
wise." 


112  ROEBUCK. 

"  We  shall  see.  But  if  we  hold  nothing  too  dear 
to  be  given  up  for  the  sake  of  independence,  no  mis- 
fortune of  war  can  dismay  us." 

"  No  Yii-ginian,  I  am  sure,"  said  Mrs.  Fitzhugh, 
"  will  hold  any  species  of  property  too  dear/* 

"  At  least  the  women,"  added  Julia,  "  must  not 
shrink  from  the  sad  duties  which  war  imposes  on  our 
sex.  But,  even  yet,  I  hope  and  pray  that  some  gleam 
of  goodness  or  impulse  of  remorse  will  avert  the 
doom  of  bloody  conflict  from  our  country." 

"  Well,  Julia,  you  must  not  forget  your  old  friend 
when  war  shall  leave  me  lonely.  Visit  me  often,  and 
whenever  you  are  with  me  I  shall  see  sunshine  in  a 
shady  place.  Come,  I  will  not  frighten  you  away 
with  my  cloudy  mood.  Let  me  show  you  my  flowers, 
though  few  of  them  are  out  yet.  You  shall  be  as 
sunshine  to  my  garden,  my  sweet  favorite.  There's 
a  speech  you  would  rather  hear,  perhaps,  from  some 
gallant  cavalier.  But  come  along,  let  us  be  happy 
among  flowers  while  we  may." 

The  walk  among  the  flowers,  with  gay  garden 
talk,  whiled  away  half-an-hour,  in  which  the  high- 
spii'ited  old  lady  became  lively  and  her  visitors  fell  in 
with  her  cheerful  humor. 


KG  E  BUCK.  113 


CHAPTER  XL 

•THE       V  O  I.  U  N  T  E  E  R  3 

When  the  company  of  cavahy  was  organized  by 
the  election  of  officers,  Hugh  Fitzhugh  was  chosen 
captain.  The  company  numbered  about  a  hundred, 
of  whom  a  majority  were  young  gentlemen,  but  men 
of  all  classes  were  included.  There  was  one  recruit 
whose  name  did  not  appear  upon  the  muster-roll. 
Doctor  Fau-fax  was  resolved,  as  he  said,  to  have  a 
hand  in  tlie  fight.  But  he  conceived  that,  at  his  age, 
he  might  be  excused  from  the  rigid  performance  of  all 
the  arduous  duties  of  a  private  soldier.  He  pro- 
posed, therefore,  to  conduct  the  war,  for  his  own  part, 
at  his  own  cost  and  charge,  as  an  independent  volun- 
teer, not  enlisted,  but  under  the  command  of  Captain 
Fitzhugh.  When  he  proposed  this  arrangement  to 
the  captain,  that  officer  thanked  him  for  the  honor 
which  it  implied,  but  urged  the  doctor  to  permit  his 
friends  to  procure  an  appointment  for  him  which 
would  enable  him  to  be  more  useful,  with  less  fatigue 
and  exposure.  But  this  suggestion  v/as  flatly  rejected 
by  the  belligerent  doctor.  He  declared  that  his  sole 
purpose  was  to  fight  "  the  Yankees "  in  the  most 
direct  manner,  hand  to  hand  and  to  the  death.  Be- 
sides, he  was  going  in  free  for  a  free  fight,  and  would 
not  endm-e  the  trammels  of  official  obligation.  The 
captain  acceded  to  the  arrangement,  but  he  asked, 
with  a  smile — 


114  ROEBUCK. 

"  How  is  it,  doctor,  that  you  plunge  headlong  into 
t]\e  war,  while  you  preach  the  policy  of  peace  V 

"  The  chance  of  shooting  at  a  pack  of  Northern 
wolves,  captain,  would  tempt  any  man  from  his  con- 
sistency.   But  you  know  I  ara  really  not  inconsistent." 

"  You  think  the  South  is  wrong  in  its  present  atti- 
tude ?" 

"  Xot  wrong,  but  rash,  captain." 

*'  You  believe  that  we  shall  be  beaten." 

*'  A  good  reason  for  going  into  the  war.  Help  the 
weak — always  help  the  weak.  When  we  are  con- 
quered it  will  be  the  misfortune  of  the  South  but  the 
crime  of  the  North.  Let  me  share  the  misfortune 
rather  than  the  crime." 

'•  Your  heart  is  right,  doctor,  but  I  trust  you  are  no 
prophet." 

And  now  everybody  manifested  a  lively  interest  in 
the  new  company.  County  pride,  the  popular-  delight 
in  military  parade  ,  personal  regard  for  volunteers  who 
were  kinsmen,  neighbors  or  friends,  and  the  con- 
tagious excitement  of  the  young  soldiers,  fanned  the 
patriotic  feeling  into  a  flame  of  enthusiasm.  Enthusi- 
asm carries  with  it  an  assurance  of  victory.  The  gen- 
eral excitement  became  exultant,  joyous.  Every  one 
hailed  his  neighbor  as  a  brother.  All  were  sons  of  a 
State,  which  all  loved  v>'ith  filial  devotion.  The  citizens 
regarded  the  volunteers  with  a  kind  of  generous  envy, 
as  fortunate  champions  of  a  sacred  soil  and  a  glorious 
cause.  Virginia — the  South — Liberty — Independence 
were  words  in  every  mouth,  and  they  sent  every  man's 
blood  bounding  along  his  veins.  Women,  always 
prone  to  sympathy,  to  social  affection  and  to  generous 
and  patriotic  emotions,  became  even  more  enthusiastic 
than  the  men 


'  ROEBUCK.  115 

It  wag  necessary  that  the  company  should  bo  ready 
for  active  sei-vice  as  soon  as  possible.  To  this  end,  not 
only  the  officers  and  the  volunteers  but  the  citizens  of 
both  sexes  applied  themselves  with  alacrity  and  indus- 
try. The  men  were  to  be  clothed,  equipped  and 
mounted.  Tents  and  wagons  were  to  be  supplied.  It 
was  known  that  the  government  could  not  instantly 
furnish  all  the  military  apparatus  needed  for  the  nume- 
rous army  which  was  spontaneously  springing  into 
existence  throughout  the  State.  Moreover  the  citizens 
coveted  the  privilege  of  supplying  their  own  companies 
not  only  with  things  needful  but  with  articles  of 
superfluity — articles  which  must  be  abandoned  in  the 
first  active  campaign.  Colonel  Fairfax  presented  to 
the  company  sufficient  cloth  of  cadet  grey  to  make  all 
the  uniforms,  and  canvass  enough  for  their  tents. 
Other  wealthy  citizens  emulated  his  liberality,  either  to 
the  same  company  or  to  others  then  in  process  of  for- 
mation. To  make  up  the  clothing  of  the  volunteers 
all  the  women,  black  and  white,  brought  then-  needles 
into  play.  For  these  various  pm*poses  the  men  formed 
themselves  into  committees,  and  the  women  met  in 
societies.  As  Julia  Fairfax  showed  herself  not  less 
generous  among  her  sex  than  her  father  among  men. 
Roebuck  became  a  great  workshop,  over  which  she 
pi-esided.  Many  young  ladies  assembled  there  daily, 
and  with  the  help  of  servants,  performed  the  work  of 
seamstresses  or  tailors.  As  the  lively  spirits  of  the 
young  lighten  their  labors,  the  tongues  of  these  maid- 
ens kept  time  with  plying  needles,  and  the  click  of 
sewing-machines  mingled  with  the  laughter  of  girls. 
The  gallant  defenders  of  theii-  country  could  not 
neglect  a  patriotic  establishment  engaged  in  their  ser- 
vice, and  so  the  ladies  were  often  favored  with  the 


116  ROEBUCK. 

counsel  and  assistance  of  the  young  men.  It  might 
happen  there  that  the  Power  who  **  rules  the  couit, 
the  camp,  the  grove,"  sometimes  hirked  in  the  tan- 
gles of  a  skein  or  barbed  the  point  of  a  needle. 

The  official  duty  of  Captain  Fitzhugh  of  course  car- 
ried him  to  such  places,  and  he  did  not  fail  to  inspect, 
now  and  then,  the  work  over  which  Julia  Fairfiix 
presided.  Between  her  and  himself  there  was  a  new 
bond  of  sympathy  in  the  ardent  patriotism  which  ani- 
mated both.  His  eloquence  was  kindled  by  themoa 
which  warmed  her  heai't  Perhaps  he  was  proud  to 
show  her  that  his  life  was  not  idly  wasted  when  he 
found  an  object  worthy  of  earnest  efibrt.  Perhaps 
she  felt  that  his  awakened  energy  was  in  some  degree 
a  flattering  tribute  to  her  influence.  The  fiery  agita- 
tion of  the  time,  too^  tended  to  inflame  all  sentiments 
into  passions.  Friendship,  cherished  since  childliood, 
might  be  quickly  kindled  to  a  warmer  sentiment 
when  sympathy  and  circumstance  conspired  to  fan  the 
flame.  But  if  their  intercourse  during  a  few  days  of 
burning  patriotism  imparted  a  passionate  glow  to  the 
friendship  between  Hugh  Fitzhugh  and  Julia  Fairfax, 
the^'  did  not  acknowledge  it  to  themselves  or  to  each 
other.  Duty,  paramount  ovei'  selfish  aims,  ther 
engaged  then*  thoughts. 

When  the  company  was  ready  for  the  march  a  vast 
crowd  assembled  at  the  village  to  take  leave  of  the 
volunteers.  Men  and  women  on  the  court  green,  in 
the  street,  afoot,  on  horseback,  in  carrmges,  every- 
where, jostled  one  another  to  get  a  sight  of  the  gay 
troop  in  new  uniforms  and  on  sleek,  high-mettled 
horses,  bound  to  the  w^ar.  A  neat  valedictory  speech 
was  delivered  by  Mr.  Williams  on  behalf  of  the  citi- 
zens.    A  blessing   was  invoked   by   the   Rev.   Mr. 


ROEBUCK.  117 

Ambler.  Cheers  were  given  by  the  multitude  and 
answered  by  th«  vohmteers.  Hats  were  tossed  up 
and  crrey  caps  waved  in  return.  Hundreds  of  negi'oes, 
imitative  patriots,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd, 
grinned  and  babbled  and  laughed  and  shouted  with 
uncontrollable  enthusiasm.  From  all  the  porches, 
windows  and  carnages,  and  from  the  court  gi'een,  white 
handkerchiefs  fluttered  incessantly.  Under  all  the 
clamor  of  cheers  an  attentive  car  might  have  heard  the 
sobs  of  mothers.  Tears  bedewed  the  cheeks  of  sis- 
ters, but  their  liandkerchiefs  were  used,  not  to  dry 
their  eyes,  but  to  wave  encouragement  to  their  brave 
brothers.  There  were  pride,  joy,  anguish  and  devo- 
tion in  that  farewell.  It  was  not  surprising  that  the 
captain  and  his  friend,  Julia,  each  felt  an  unusual  pal- 
pitation of  the  heart  when  they  waved  their  final 
adieu  . 

The  entire  march  of  the  company  to  the  scene  of 
war  was  a  popular  ovation.  The  roads  were  lined 
with  men,  wom^n  and  children,  black  and  white,  wav- 
ing hats  and  handkerchiefs,  clapping  hands,  cheering 
and  offenng  refreshments.  Whenever  the  company 
halted  the  people  flocked  around,  to  tender  congratu- 
lation, welcome  and  hospitality.  They  contended  for 
the  privilege  of  entertaining  every  private  soldier,  as 
well  as  the  officers,  in  their  houses.  No  cottage  was 
too  poor  to  solicit  such  guests.  No  mansion,  nor  bed, 
nor  furniture  could  be  too  luxurious  for  the  use  of 
those  dusty  horsemen.  No  food  was  too  delicate,  no 
wine  too  costly  to  be  set  before  them.  Even  their 
servants  rejoiced  with  African  glee  in  the  abounding 
hospitality  which  they  shared.  When  the  company 
marched  on,  the  gentlemen  of  the  county  escorted 
them  for  miles  over  dusty  or  miry  roads.     Banners 


118  ROEBUCK. 

were  presented  to  them  by  processions  of  ladies,  and 
speeclies  addressed  to  them,  full  of  gi'ateful  praise  and 
eloquent  with  martial  and  patriotic  fervor.  They  fell  in 
with  other  companies  marching  to  the  field  and  saw 
the  people  everywhere  engaged  in  volunteering  or 
preparing  volunteers  for  service.  The  country  wets 
unanimous  for  war  and  independence. 

In  the  meantime  other  companies  were  formed  in 
the  county  for  the  different  arms  of  the  service.  There 
was  talk  of  forming  one  under  the  auspices  of  Albert 
Palmer — not  of  cavalry  but  of  infantry.  He  had  been 
requested  by  some  of  the  young  men  to  volunteer  in 
the  company  which  was  now  commanded  by  Captain 
Fitzhugh,  but  he  evaded  the  request.  He  professed 
to  think  that,  as  cavalry  was  a  favorite  arm,  his  assis- 
tance was  not  needed  in  that  direction,  and  that  since 
many  who  were  willing  to  become  soldiers  could  not 
afford  to  furnish  horses,  he  could  be  more  useful  in 
raising  a  company  of  infantry.  He  talked  a  great 
deal  on  that  subject.  He  rode  over  the  county.  He 
drew  up  a  paper  to  be  signed  by  volunteers.  He 
procured  a  few  signatures.  He  made  this  his  osten- 
sible business  for  several  weeks.  Either  he  was  not 
quite  in  earnest  or  his  influence  was  limited.  The 
number  of  his  signatures  ceased  to  increase,  though 
other  companies  were  filled  up  until  the  county  had 
furnished  more  volunteers  than  it  contained  voters. 
His  project,  however,  was  a  decent  apology  for  re- 
maining at  home,  while  he  declaimed  as  a  zealous 
Southerner  and  took  part  in  proceedings  designed  to 
promote  the  war.  He  consulted  with  committees. 
Ho  visited  the  patrrotic  societies  of  ladies:  He  talked 
of  nothing  but  war. 

He  was  particularly  regular  in  calling  at  Roebuck, 


ROEBUCK.  no 

always  expressing  the  deepest  interest  in  the  work 
of  the  ladies  who  assembled  there,  and  seeking  occa- 
fiious  to  converse  with  Miss  Fairfax.  When  the  work 
was  finished  lie  continued  to  visit  Roebuck  with  equal 
regularity.  From  day  to  day  his  attentions  to  Miss 
Fairfax  became  more  pointed.  At  length  the  motive 
of  them  could  be  no  longer  misunderstood.  He  was 
a  lover,  almost  declared.  When  Julia  made  this  dis- 
covery she  was  surprised  and  embarrassed.  She  re- 
spected him  as  a  friend,  and  would  wilUngly  have 
spared  him  the  pain  of  a  distinct  refusal.  She  en- 
deavored with  delicate  tact  to  discourage  his  suit 
without  mortifying  his  pride.  But  in  view  of  ulterior 
plans,  he  was  resolved  that,  in  this  afiair,  there  should 
be  neither  uncertainty  nor  delay.  It  became  appa- 
rent that  he  would  not  be  diverted  from  pressing  his 
suit  to  a  speedy  and  decisive  issue.  At  length,  seiz- 
ing an  opportunity  when  she  could  neither  avoid  hun 
nor  evade  his  addresses,  he  offered  her,  with  studied 
grace  of  manner  and  polish  of  words,  his  heart  and 
hand.  If  she  had  been  less  agitated  by  the  distress 
of  inflicting  pain,  she  might  have  inferred  from  his 
polite  self-possession  during  the  scene  that  his  heart 
was  not  to  be  broken  by  any  decision  she  would  pro- 
nounce. But,  with  modest  and  considerate  gentle- 
ness, she  signified  to  him  that,  wliile  he  had  her  es- 
teem, she  could  not  reciprocate  the  sentiments  which 
he  had  done  her  the  honor  to  express.  He  did  not 
leave  her  until  he  ascertained,  to  his  own  perfect  con- 
viction, that  it  would  be  useless  to  renew  his  suit. 
Then,  with  the  same  urbanity  of  style,  he  expressed 
his  disappointment  and  regret,  and  afterwards  bade 
her  adieu. 
The  next  day  he  started  to  Richmond.     Upon  his 


120  '  ROEBUCK. 

retTivn  from  the  capital  he  informed  *his  parents  that 
he  was  a  quarter-master,  with  the  rank  of  captain,  and 
that  iie  liad  made  a  satisfactory  arrangement  with  a 
slave-dealer  in  the  city  to  sell  Mr.  Palmer's  negroes 
there  at  auction.  He  had  been  assigned  as  quarter- 
master to  the  regiment  of  cavalry  which  included 
Fitzhugh's  company.  Young  Baxter  had  been  ap- 
pointed a  commissary  with  the  same  rank,  and  was 
assigned  to  the  same  regiment.  Mr.  Palmer,  the 
elder,  expressed  nis  satisfaction  with  all  that  had  been 
done  by  his  son.  He  had  but  consummated  plans 
previously  settled  in  tamily  council.  The  iather  had 
solicited  an  inliuence  at  the  capital  to  procure  the  ap- 
pointment ot  quarter-master;  an  appointment  com- 
mended by  safety  and  profit ;  sn  office  which  would 
serve  to  identify  Albert  with  the  Southern  movement, 
and  yet  would  not  expose  him  too  conspicuously  to 
Northern  vengeance,  in  the  event  of  adverse  fortune. 

When  the  quarter-master  afterwards  repaired  to  his 
regiment,  he  had  not  forgotten  the  conduct  of  Baxter 
in  his  father's  house.  Neither  did  he  regard  Captain 
Fitzhugh  without  resentment.  He  had  watched  with 
jealous  eyes  some  of  the  interviews  between  the  cap- 
tain and  Julia  at  Roebuck,  and  after  the  rejection  of 
his  suit,  he  concluded  that  he  owed  his  discomfiture 
to  the  preference  awarded  to  that  rival.  As  the  project 
of  marriage  had  been  a  key  to  his  principal  plans  with 
reference  to  the  war  and  to  his  future  prosperity,  he 
could  not  forgive  the  suspected  author  of  his  disap- 
pointment. But  these  feelings  were  unknown  to 
Baxter  and  Fitzhugh,  and  they  gave  him  a  fiiendly 
reception. 


ROEBUCK.  121 


CHAPTER   XII. 

3IANASSA. 

This  narrative  is  not  designed  to  be  a  chronicle  of 
military  events,  and  it  passes  now  to  the  first  battle 
of  Manassa,  only  for  the  purpose  of  gathering  up  some 
incidents' which  affected  the  fortunes  of  persons  who 
have  appeared  to  the  reader.  That  battle,  it  is  well 
known,  was  fought  on  a  hot  day  of  July,  in  the  year 
eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-one,  between  two  con- 
siderable armies,  of  which  the  Federal  was  twice  as 
numerous  as  the  Confederate.  In  arms  and  all  equip- 
ments the  superiority  was  also  with  the  larger  host. 
The  skill  of  the  Northern  generals,  as  displayed  on 
that  day,  was  not  inferior  to  that  of  their  adversaries. 
The  Federals  advanced  to  the  attack,  confident  of  suc- 
cess. Afler  a  severe  conflict  of  several  hours,  victory 
was  achieved  by  the  undisciplined  valor  of  the  South- 
ern volunteers.  Then  followed  such  a  rout,  disper- 
sion and  flight  of  the  Northern  army  as  would  have 
been  ludicrous  if  so  much  suffering  and  teiTor  could 
ever  provoke  a  smile. 

During  the  engagement  but  little  use  was  made  of 
cavalry.  Captain  Fitzhugh's  company  was  for  a  time 
posted  in  a  ravine,  where  they  were  somewhat  shel- 
tered fi'om  the  direct  fire  of  the  enemy,  while  awaiting 
orders  or  opportunities  for  action.  In  this  position, 
inactive  and  unable  to  see  the  course  of  the  fight, 
while  the  roar  of  battle  was  deafening,  Doctor  Fairfax 
became   extremely  impatient.     He  was  eager  to  be 

6 


122  ROEBUCK. 

vv'here  bloAvs  were  dealt  and  taken.  With  his  blood 
at  fever  heat,  he  chafed  at  fortune,  which  denied  hiin 
an  active  part  in  the  grand  and  exciting  drama.  When 
a  report  came  that  the  brigade  of  his  friend.  Brigadier 
General  Bee,  was  pressed  and  in  danger  of  being  over- 
whelmed by  superior  numbers,  he  could  endure  in- 
action no  longer.  He  applied  for  permission  to  offer 
his  services  to  that  gallant  officer,  and  it  was  granted. 
He  found  that  the  situation  of  Bee's  brigade  was  ex- 
tremely critical,  and  that  every  officer  of  the  general's 
staff  was  killed,  wounded  or  unhorsed.  The  general 
desired  him  instantly  to  ride  off  with  an  importu- 
nate message  to  be  delivered  to  General  Beauregard. 

The  doctor  started  at  high  speed  through  a  tempest 
of  shot  and  shell  in  which  it  seemed  impossible  for  a 
man  or  horse  to  live  a  minute.  He  had  not  gone  far 
when  he  was  obliged  to  check  his  horse  to  avoid  a 
number  of  men  Avho  were  bearing  Brigadier  General 
Bartow,  mortally  wounded,  a  short  distance  to  the  rear 
of  his  shattered  brigade.  He  heard  that  brave  and 
able  man  request  those  around  him  to  lay  him  down 
and  return  to  assist  and  encourage  his  men.  "  Look," 
exclaimed  the  dying  Bartow,  "  look  at  those  Virgi- 
nians under  Jackson,  standing  like  a  stone  wall.''  The 
doctor's  attention,  as  he  passed  on,  was  thus  directed 
to  that  nntlinching  brigade  of  Virginians,  and  he  saw 
the  tall,  angular  form  and  handsome  featm-es  of  Jack- 
son, as  he  sat  upon  his  horse  immovable,  with  nothing 
but  the  gleam  of  his  eyes  to  indicate  the  fiery  energy 
which  then  reposed,  like  latent  lightning.  He  and  his 
brigade  were  from  that  day  known  by  a  name  derived 
from  the  exclamation  of  Bartow ;  but  not  until  long 
afterwards  did  even  his  own  countrymen  recognize  iu 
Stonewall  Jackson  the  first  militai-y  pjenius  on  the  coii- 
tiuent 


ROEBUCK.  123 

With  some  difficulty,  and  after  once  riding  almost 
into  the  enemy's  lines,  the  doctor  found  General 
Beauregard,  and  delivering  the  message  and  receiving 
a  reply,  he  returned  to  find  General  Bee ;  but  he  had 
been  killed.  Seeking  his  successor  in  command, 
amidst  the  hail  of  bullets  and  the  contusion  of  broken, 
but  unyielding  ranks,  the  doctor  delivered  to  him  the 
communication,  and  at  that  moment  his  own  horse 
was  shot.  Being  then  dismissed  to  his  proper  com- 
mand, he  made  his  way  afoot  to  his  company.  He 
called  out  as  he  approached — "  there  is  glorious  ex- 
citement up  there,  boys.  But  the  infernal  Yanks 
have  killed  my  horse.  I  must  have  another." 
"  What's  this  f  asked  one  of  the  men,  pointing  at  the 
doctor  s  feet.  Casting  down  his  eyes,  he  saw  blood 
running  from  one  of  his  legs.  He  drew  off  his  boot 
and  found  that  he  had  received  a  flesh  wound,  of 
which  until  then  he  had  been  unconscious.  "  Now," 
he  grumbled  as  he  eyed  the  spot,  *•  I  Avonder  if  that 
Yankee  expected  to  make  veal  of  me  by  butchering 
my  calf"  Chuckling  over  his  pun,  he  called  for  two 
or  three  handkerchiefs  and  bandaged  his  wound.  He 
then  renewed  his  demand  for  a  horse.  "  No,  no,  my 
good  fiiend,"  said  the  captain,  "  you  must  not  mount 
again  to-day."  This  prohibition  was  soon  enforced  by 
the  loss  of  blood.  The  doctor  became  fiint,  and  lay 
down  upon  the  ground.  He  revived,  but  had  to  re- 
main there  until  the  battle  was  over. 

When  the  day  had  been  won.  Captain  Fitzhugh's 
company  was  sent,  with  other  cavalry,  in  pursuit  of 
that  panic-stricken  mob  which  had  so  lately  been  an 
army  with  banners.  The  pursuit  was  a  chase.  Little 
resistance  was  encountered.  The  most  frequent  im- 
pediments were  abandoned  wagons  and  other  wrecks 


124  ROEBUCK. 

of  a  ruined  host.  Yet  a  chance  shot  hroke  the  left 
arm  of  Captain  Fitzhugh.  He  continued,  neverthe- 
less, to  lead  his  men,  gathering  in  prisoners  and  scat- 
tering still  more  widely  and  wildly  the  elements  of 
that  disastrous  rout.  When  it  was  almost  night,  he 
discovered  that  some  preparation  had  been  made  for 
resistance  at  a  place  where  the  road  passed  between 
swamps  and  thickets,  so  that  it  was  a  mere  defile.  On 
a  little  eminence  which  commanded  the  defile  a  piece 
of  artillery  was  pointed  in  the  direction  of  the  pursu- 
ing cavalry.  A  Federal  captain,  finding  an  aban- 
doned piece  there,  had  collected  about  a  hundred 
stragglers,  and  made  dispositions  to  check  pursuit. 
The  number  of  men  with  Captain  Fitzhugh  at  that 
time  did  not  exceed  twenty,  the  rest  of  his  company. 
having  been  left  in  charge  of  captives.  Halting  a  mo- 
ment to  ascertain  the  state  of  afifairs  in  his  front,  he 
dashed  forward  at  the  head  of  his  little  band.  The 
Federal  officer  discharged  the  piece  with  his  own 
hand,  and  the  gi-ape  killed  one  and  wounded  two  of 
the  Confederates.  There  was  not  time,  if  there  was 
ammunition  at  hand,  to  load  again.  The  captain  en- 
deavored to  hold  his  men  firm  to  repel  the  cavahy,  but 
disheartened  by  the  general  rout,  they  broke  and  fled. 
He  stood  alone,  armed  only  with  his  sword,  and  dis- 
daining to  fly  or  surrender,  seemed  determined  to  sell 
his  life  as  dearly  as  possible.  He  fell,  dangerously 
w^ounded  by  a  pistol-shot,  and  the  cavalry  rushed  past 
him. 

Galloping  on,  they  overtook  an  ambulance,  in  which 
were  two  or  three  civilians,  who  had  come  upon  the 
field  to  be  spectators  of  the  grand  Union  victory 
which,  on  the  morning  of  that  day,  the  entire  North 
had  expected.     Whipping  and  shouting,  they  urged 


ROEBUCK.  125 

the  horses  to  their  utmost  speed,  and  the  ambulance 
was  bounding  from  side  to  side.  At  its  tail  hung  a 
pedestrian,  and  as  be  ran  or  was  dragged  along  with 
his  skirts  flying,  he  begged  the  other  fugitives  to  take 
him  into  the  vehicle.  But  he  lost  his  hold,  and  fell 
just  when  the  Confederate  captain  came  up,  and  un- 
able to  check  his  horse,  rode  over  him.  The  terrified 
occupants  of  the  ambulance,  seeing  cavalry  so  close 
upon  them,  leaped  out  and  scampered  across  the  fields. 
Their  horses  then  stopped. 

As  it  was  growing  dark.  Captain  Fitzhugh  halted 
and  turned  back,  taking  with  hiqi  the  captured  ambu- 
lance. When  he  returned  to  the  man  who  had  fallen 
under  his  horse's  hoofs,  that  person  still  lay  prostrate 
on  his  face,  affecting  to  be  dead.  One  of  the  Confed- 
erates, dismounting,  and  finding  him  to  be  alive,  with- 
out a  visible  wound,  turned  him  over  and  commanded 
him  to  get  up.  "  O  Lord,  don't  kill  me  ;  I  am  a  non- 
combatant,"  he  bellowed.  '•  I  can  see  that  in  the 
dark,"  replied  the  Confederate  soldier,  "  but  you  must 
get  up  and  go  with  us."  The  captive,  then,  discover- 
ing the  ofiicer,  cried — "  Captain — Colonel — General — 
I  don't  know  your  stripes,  but  whatever  you  are,  I  ap- 
peal to  you  as  an  ofiicer.  Don't  let  them  murder  me. 
I  am  only  a  poor  newspaper  devil.  I  am  Bombyx, 
army  coiTespondent  of  the  '  New  York  Comet.'  My 
name  is  Campbell.  I  just  came  here  to  pick  up  a 
few  items.  Oh,  spare  my  life.  If  you  do,  I'll  give 
you   a   first-rate   notice    in    my   next   letter  to  the 

*  Comet.'  I'll  say  the  reb— the  South  has  gained  the 
day.  I'll  say  you  gained  it  yourself.  I'll  say  you 
killed  a  hundred  men  with  your  own  hand.  Indeed  I 
will.     I'll  write  anything  if  you  spare  my  life.     The 

*  Comet'  has  the  largest  circulation  of  any  paper  in 


126  ROEBUCK. 

New  York — power-press,  with  the  latest  improve- 
ments— tremendous  advertising — immense  subscrip- 
tion list — O,  don't  let  me  be*  murdered.  Poor 
Bombyx !" 

"  Is  the  fellow  hurt  ?"  inquired  the  captain. 

*'  Xo — yes,  I  think  I  am — I'm  lame  here — a  dozen 
hoi*ses  tramped  on  my  leg." 

"  Take  him  up  and  put  him  into  the  ambulance." 

When  they  moved  on,  "  now,"  said  Captain  Fitz- 
hugh,  '•  we  must  look  after  that  brave  officer  who  fell 
by  the  gun.  I  fear  he  is  badly  wounded,  if  not 
killed."  They  found  him  indeed  living,  but  nearly 
dead.  Lifting  him  carefully  and  tenderly,  they  laid 
him  in  the  ambulance.  Afterwards  they  took  up  the 
body  of  their  comrade  who  had  been  killed,  and  one 
of  those  Avho  had  been  wounded,  the  other  being  able 
to  ride  his  horse.  With  these  and  a  Federal  soldier 
whom  they  found  lying  near  the  road  wounded,  they 
slowly  made  their  way  through  the  darkness  to  the 
place  where  they  had  left  Doctor  Fau-fax. 

He  lay  there  asleep.  Aroused  by  the  noise  of  their 
approach,  he  sat  up  and  cried  out — "back  again, 
boys  ? — have  you  been  to  Washington  City  ? — did  you 
fetch  Old  Abe  with  you? — let  me  see  his  majesty." 
But  when  he  was  told  what  the  ambulance  contained, 
his  levity  ceased,  and  he  expressed  sincere  compassion 
for  the  wounded,  and  sorrow  for  the  dead.  When  he 
learned  that  his  captain  was  wounded,  he  was  full  of 
anxiety.  In  spite  of  his  own  wound,  which  had  become 
painful,  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  offered  assistance,  first 
to  Captain  Fitzhugh,  and  then  to  the  other  wounded. 
At  so  late  an  hour  of  the  night,  and  after  such  a 
battle,  it  was  impossible  to  make  immediate  provision 
for  all  the  wounded.     While  a  surgeon  was  sent  for, 


ROEBUCK.  127 

Doctor  Fairfax  tendered  his  services  as  far  as  they 
might  be  rendered  with  safety  to  the  patients,  by  vir- 
tue of  his  having  onpe  been  a  physician.  Leaning  on 
a  man's  arm,  he  limped  to  the  ambulance,  attended  to 
the  I'emoval  of  the  wounded,  examined  their  wounds, 
and  spent  the  remainder  of  the  night  in  ministering 
to  their  relief  The  Federal  captain,  as  the  person  in 
most  danger,  received  his  principal  care.  Last  of  all, 
Avhen  daylight  appeared,  he  turned  his  attention  to 
Campbell,  the  reporter  or  correspondent  of  the 
"  Comet,"  who  had  recovered  from  his  fright,  and  in 
full  possession  of  his  faculties,  sat  under  a  tree,  leaning 
against  the  trunk,  and  smoking  a  cigar.  His  leg  still 
gave  him  some  j^ain,  and  he  thought  it  was  politic  to 
make  the  most  of  his  wound.  The  gray  light,  when 
the  doctor  approached  him,  revealed  a  person  in  holi- 
day attire,  bedizened  with  jewelry,  but  soiled  with 
dirt.  When  he  displayed  liis  wound,  the  doctor  curtly 
said,  "  a  bruise — nothing  but  a  bruise,"  and  was  walk- 
ing away. 

"  I  say,  doctor,"  exclaimed  Campbell,  "  you  are  not 
in  a  hurry,  are  you  f 

"  I  believe  I  have  nothing  more  to  do  just  now." 

"  Oblige  me  then  by  sitting  down  beside  me.  I 
know  you  are  tired,  and  I  wish  to  have  a  little  chat 
with  you." 

"  Certainly,  sir,"  said  the  doctor,  sitting  down  upon 
the  ground. 

"  Have  a  cigar  1  You  don't  smoke  1  Then  take  a 
drink.  You  are  not  very  well.  I  have  a  flask  here  in 
my  pocket.  You  won't  drink  ?  The  brandy  is  ex- 
cellent. I  bought  it  in  New  York.  I'll  tell  you  where 
you  can  buy  the  best  cigars  and  brandy  when  you  go 
to  the  city.     You  " 


128  ROEBUCK. 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  but  I  don't  expect  to  be  in  New 
York  very  soon." 

"  But  information  is  always  useful.  I  pick  up  items 
wherever  I  go.  I  would  like  to  get  a  few  from  you 
now,  doctor.  I  am  Bombyx,  the  army  correspondent 
of  the  'New  York  Comet.'  Bombyx  is  Latin  you 
know  for  silk-worm.  Capital  name  for  a  correspond- 
ent, eh  1  They  say  we  spin  our  yams  out  of  oui*  own 
heads — ha,  ha,  ha!" 

"  The  Yankee  imitation  of  a  silk-worm — a  caterpil- 
lai',"  said  the  doctor  to  himself,  but  he  said  aloud,  "  I 
presume  you  have  no  further  occasion  for  ray  pre- 
sence." 

"  Don't  go,  doctor,  don't  go.  I  want  to  discusa 
with  you  some  points  of  interest  to  our  common 
country." 

"  What  countiyman  are  you?"  said  the  doctor. 

*'  An  American,  of  course." 

"  But  I  am  a  Vu-ginian." 

"  It's  all  one — Yh-ginian  and  American." 

"  There  was  a  question  about  that  discussed  on  tho 
battle-field  yesterday." 

"Now,  it  is  the  war  I  want  to  discuss  with  you, 
doctor.  You  rebels — but  excuse  me  for  calling  you  a 
rebel — no  offence,  I  hope  ?" 

"  Rebel  I  A  solecism  indeed  to  speak  of  the  rebel- 
lion of  a  State.  But  rebel !  It  is  the  most  popular 
epithet  in  the  language.  Governments  have  always 
endeavored  to  make  it  infamous,  but  they  have  only 
made  themselves  odious.  History  is  the  pillory  of 
governments.  Rebellion  always  implies  at  least  one 
virtue — courage.  Three-fourths  of  the  rebellions  have 
been  right,  and  seven-eights  have  been  applauded  by 
mankind.     If  you  would  flatter  me,  call  me  a  rebel." 


ROEBUCK.  129 

*'  You  have  odd  notions,  doctor." 

"  Odd  in  this  country !  What  -would  America  have 
been  without  rebeUion  *?" 

"  Well  then,  you  rebels  must  acknowledge  that  tlie 
government  of  tlie  Union  is  the  best  government  the 
world  ever  saw." 

"■  You  will  be  equally  polite,  of  course,  and  acknow- 
ledge that  this  is  the  best  rebellion  the  world  ever 
saw." 

"  But  I  am  in  earnest,  doctor." 

"  So  am  I.  You  of  the  Korth  may  praise  a  govern- 
ment that  serves  your  interest.  We  of  the  South 
miLst  praise  a  rebellion  that  is  designed  to  save  our 
liberties." 

"  Speaking  of  liberty,  doctor,  I  would  like  to  discuss 
the  subject  of  slavery.  You  know  our  government  is 
pledged  not  to  interfere  with  slavery,  but  if  you 
Soutlierners  had  correct  views  on  that  subject  1  think 
we  could  soon  have  peace.  Now  I  am  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  subject  and  would  like  to  explain 
it  to  you." 

"  Have  you  lived  among  negro  slaves  V 

"  No,  I  never  was  in  a  slave-holding  State  before 
yesterday.  I  lost  my  liberty  the  same  day  I  entered 
one — ha,  ha,  ha  I" 

"  Your  views  of  slavery  must  be  interesting." 

"  I  believe  they  are.  Now  I  can  convince  you  in 
five  minutes  that  slavery  is  wrong.  Thus :  you  will 
admit  that  by  nature  all  men  are  equal."  j 

"  Excuse  me — not  at  present."  } 

"  You  don't  admit  first  principles  !  Then  it  is  use- 
less to  argue  with  you." 

"  Very  probably ;  but  I  prefer  not  to  admit  as  a 
fact  that  which  my  senses  contradict.     I  cannot  see 

6* 


130  ROEBUCK. 

that  a  white  man  and  a  negro  are  by  nature  equal." 

"  Why,  it  is  laid  down  in  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence." 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  the  Declaration,  if  it  is  not 
true." 

"  You  blaspheme  that  sacred  instniment." 

"  I  worship  nothing  under  heaven.  The  Declara- 
tion of  Independence  was  a  glorious  event — it  was  a 
rebellion — but  its  glory  may  be  due  rather  to  the 
sword  of  Washington  than  to  the  philosophy  of  Jef- 
ferson." 

"  Why,  sir,  it  is  the  great  end  of  all  the  modem 
improvements  in  political  science  to  make  men  equal. 
I  have  written  a  treatise  to  prove  it.  I  wish  I  had 
brought  you  a  copy." 

"  Thank  you.  I'll  give  you  a  hint  for  your  next 
edition.  If  you  wish  to  equalize  two  races  whom 
nature  has  made  unequal,  you  have  only  to  degrade 
the  higher.  It  is  an  easy  process.  They  have  done  it 
in  Mexico — a  country  that  can  do  nothing  else." 

"You  jest  at  everything,  doctor." 

'•  Why  should  we  wrangle  over  questions  which  the 
sword  is  to  decide  V 

"  Then  let  us  talk  about  something  else.  I  love  to 
talk." 

Campbell  then  launched  forth  in  a  long  harangue 
which  kept  Doctor  Faii-fax  listening  with  amusement 
and.  wonder.  He  talked  of  the  battle,  of  his  family, 
of  the  Federal  generals,  whom  he  called  by  their 
Christian  names,  as  familiar  acquaintances,  of  news- 
papers, of  strategy,  of  boots,  of  ladies,  of  foreign 
nations,  of  eveiything,  with  a  volubility  that  knew 
"  no  retiring  ebb,"  His  style  was  similar  to  that  which 
he  used   in  coiTesponding  with  the  "  Comet."     He 


R  O  E  B  U  C  K  .  131 

introfluced  every  toi)ic,  as  it  were,  witli  a  great  head- 
ing^ displayed  in  capitals.  He  magnified  petty  details 
with  astoiiTiding  adjectives.  lie  spurted  out  every 
sentence  as  if  it  was  designed  to  make-a  sensation,  and 
he  gesticulated  interjections  and  marks  of  exclamation. 
*He  tripped  througli  the  gravest  questions  with  a 
jaunty,  flippant,  knowing  air.  His  statements  of  facts, 
tricked  out  to  shine,  were  marvellous  travesties  of 
truth.  He  predicted  futili-e  events  like  a  propliet  or  a 
spiritual  rapper.  He  made  it  his  busiuess,  as  he 
modestly  observed,  to  know  ever3'thing. 

Dr.  Fairfax  had  found  a  character  quite  new  to  him. 
Surely,  he  thought,  nothing  like  this  ever  grew  south 
of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line.  What  impudence !  he 
said  to  himself,  as  the  harangue  went  on :  what  flip- 
pancy !  what  pretention !  what  vulgarity  of  soul  I 
what  ambitious  and  meretricious  rhetoric !  what  a 
liar !  Thus  with  inward  comment  he  sat  studying 
this  novel  specimen  of  humanity.  The  interest  of  the 
study  inspired  him  with  a  sort  of  liking  for  his  speci- 
men. He  began  to  covet  it  as  a  natural  curiosity. 
This,  he  thought,  was  "  a  Yankee  of  the  Yankees."  He 
hated  that  tribe  in  the  mass,  but  individually,  he  never 
could  hate  any  man.  Finally  he  interrupted  the  dis- 
course. 

"  Come,  Bombyx,  my  Northern  light,  my  polar  star, 
my  epitome  of  all  Northern  intelhgence,  my  live 
Yai?kee,  come,  let  us  look  out  for  breakfast." 

*'A  capital  thought,  doctor,  ha,  ha,  ha!" 

After  feasting  his  communicative  guest  with  the  best 
scraps  he  could  scrape  together  at  such  a  time  and 
])lace.  Doctor  Fairfax  again  visited  the  Federal  officer, 
I  le  learned  from  him  that  he  was  Captain  Tremaine, 
and  that  he  had  been  an  oflicer  in  the  regular  army  of 


132  ROEBUCK. 

the  United  States  before  the  war.  He  appeared  to  be 
a  gentleman,  and  his  conversation  increased  the  inter- 
est which  his  sufferin^^  awakened.  But  the  doctor  did 
not  suffer  him  to  talk  much,  and  as  soon  as  it  was 
practicable,  he  had  the  captain,  as  well  as  the  other 
Avounded,  provided  with  comfortable  cots  and  tents 
and  .with  proper  attendance.  The  drenching  rain  that 
day  fell  on  many  unsheltered  men,  the  living  and  the 
dead,  the  wounded,  the  weary  and  the  sick,  on  the 
wide  plain  of  Manassa. 


ROEBUCK.  183 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

A   DUEL. 

Ik  the  evening  of  that  rainy  day  they  buried  the 
Boldier  who  had  been  killed,  as  already  mentioned,  by 
a  grape-shot  while  engaged  in  the  pui-suit.  At  this 
early  period  of  the  war  death  had  not  lost  its  awe  by 
familiarity.  "When  a  single  man  of  a  company  fell  in 
battle,  the  event  impressed  the  minds  of  the  survivors 
with  almost  as  much  solemnity  as  a  death  at  homo 
before  the  war.  The  body  of  this  soldier  was  followed 
by  most  of  his  comrades  in  the  company,  with  every 
demonstration  of  respect  that  cii'cumstances  permitted, 
to  a  small  grove  of  stunted  trees  where  a  place  of 
burial  had  been  selected  for  some  of  the  Confederate 
dead.  The  melancholy  solemnity  of  the  scene  was 
deepened  by  the  gloom  of  the  sky  and  of  the  neigh- 
boring battle-field,  yet  encumbered  with  dead  and 
d}dng.  When  they  had  fulfilled  their  sad  duty  the 
men  in  attendance  were  about  to  march  away,  when 
Abraham  Marlin,  the  preaching  cooper,  stepped  for- 
wai'd  and  touching  his  cap,  requested  permission  to 
say  a  few  words.  He  remarked  it  was  a  pity  any 
human  being  should  be  buried  without  some  religious 
service.  He  knew  a  chaplain  could  not  be  had  when 
so  many  dying  men  required  their  attendance  on  them. 
But  he  thought  some  one  might  offer  up  an  humble 
prayer  at  the  grave.  This  suggestion  was  received 
with  silent  acquiescence,  but  all  eyes  looked  ai'ound 
for    the  person   who   might  perforai    the    proposed 


134'  ROEBUCK. 

service.  Abraham,  seeing  that  no  other  person  was 
willing,  felt  that  it  was  incumbent  on  himself  to  dis- 
charge the  duty  which  he  had  proposed.  He  there- 
fore walked  to  the  head  of  the  grave,  took  off  his  cap, 
lifted  up  his  hands  and  began  to  pray.  In  common 
affau's  which  belonged  to  every-day  life  he  was  sensi- 
ble and  his  language  was  direct  and  simple.  But 
when,  from  religious  zeal,  he  aspired  to  performances 
which  exercise  the  higher  faculties  of  educated  men, 
he  floundered  into  absurdities  of  thought  and  lan- 
guage which  were  almost  profane  in  spite  of  his  sincere 
piety.  On  this  occasion  he  soon  rambled  into  a  kind 
of  funeral  discourse  upon  the  life  and  character  of  the 
deceased,  such  as  can  scarcely  be  imagined  without 
the  aid  of  a  specimen  : 

"  We  lay  his  mortal  body  in  the  dust — leastways  it 
was  dust  before  the  rain.  We  pray  that  his  immortal 
soul  may  go  where  the  wicked  cease  fi-om  troubling 
and  the  weary  are  at  rest,  that  is  if  it  ain't  popish  to 
pray  for  his  soul  when  he's  dead  and  buried,  and  if  it 
is,  we  ax  pardon  and  take  it  back.  He  was  a  mighty 
good  young  man  as  we  knowed  him  at  home.  He 
was  a  mighty  brave  soldier.  He  fou't  in  this  'ere 
great  battle  agin  the  great  company,  the  mighty  army 
that  come  out  of  the  North  parts  which  we've  whip- 
ped and  put  to  flight,  only  a  good  many  of  'em  was 
killed  and  eouldn't  fly.  He  was  killed  suddently  in 
pur.suin'  of  'em  when  the  big  tight  was  done  fou't,  and 
it  was  a  pity  any  more  men  was  killed  so  late  in  the 
evenin'.  He  fou't  in  that  battle  when  he  wa'n't  able 
to  fight  by  good  rights,  becase  he'd  been  runnin'  off 
with  chronic  dh-ee  for  most  a  month.  But  he  wouldn't 
Btay  back.  He  was  a  willin'  and  a  brave  man,  and  he 
wood  a  fou't  agin  in  the  next  big  battle,  ef  any  more 


ROEBUCK.  135 

mighty  armies  come  out  of  the  North  parts,  proviclin' 
the  diree  didn't  take  him  off  in  the  eend." 

But  after  some  time  the  pious  cooper  dropped  this 
rambling  discourse  and  gave,  in  homely  but  sensible 
language,  expression  to  those  genuine  emotions  which 
good  men  feel  when  they  stand  in  the  presence  of 
death  and  before  the  Judge  of  quick  and  dead.  When 
in  the  midst  of  his  uncouth  dialect  his  memory  sup- 
plied some  of  the  affecting  phrases  which  the  scrip- 
tures lend  to  the  expression  of  personal  piety  or  the 
sublime  imagery  with  which  they  allude  to  the  world 
beyond  the  tomb,  he  seemed  almost  eloquent.  His 
pathetic  earnestness  melted  some  of  the  soldiers  around 
him  to  tears.  They  indeed  did  not  smile  at  those 
absurdities  by  which  he  made  sacred  things  appear 
mean  and  ridiculous,  for  besides  the  sadness  of  the 
scene,  they  respected  the  preaching  cooper  as  a  sin- 
cere, faithful  and  brave  man.  His  piety  silenced  their 
censure,  even  when  his  presumption  might  have 
shocked  them. 

An  hour  after  the  conclusion  of  this  scene.  Captain 
Palmer,  the  quarter-master,  sat  in  the  door  of  a  tent 
conversing  with  a  person  who  was  present  at  the  grave 
about  the  strange  proceedings  of  the  extempore  chap- 
lain. "  Abraham  Marlin  is  a  pestilent  old  fool,"  said 
Palmer,  in  a  loud  tone.  "  "V^s  that  meant  for  my 
ear  ?"  asked  a  young  man  who  was  passing  the  tent 
and  who  turned  abruptly  to  Palmer. 

"  Who  are  you  f    rejoined  the  latter. 

"  I  am  the  son  of  Abraham  Marling;' 

"  O,  Mark  Marlin !  I've  heard  of  you.  I  repeat 
what  I  said,  and  this  time  for  your  ears.  Abraham 
Marlin  is  a  pestilent  old  fool." 

"  It  is  false,  and  no  gentleman  would  say  such  a 
thing  about  any  man  to  his  son." 


136  ROEBUCK. 

"  Sir,  you  are  a  private.    I  am  an  oflScer." 

"  I  knew  that,  or  I  could  not  liave  answered  you 
with  words." 

"  Do  you  threaten  me,  sir  ?" 

"As  you  talk  about  your  rank,  I  can  say  no  more; 
but  I  will  say  again,  you  are  no  gentleman." 

"  I'll  have  you  punished,  sir  ;  I'll  have  you  punished 
for  your  insolence." 

"  Then  you  must  expose  yourself,"  said  Mark  Marlin 
as  he  walked  away. 

Palmer  had  fallen  into  thia  foolish  altercation,  be- 
cause he  had  conceived  the  absurd  idea  that,  among 
soldiers,  he  must  support  a  reputation  for  soldierly 
bearing  by  blustering  rudeness,  and  feared  he  might 
sink  in  the  estimation  of  his  companion  if  he  made 
any  concession  to  Mark  Marlin,  after  proclaiming  his 
opinion  of  Mark's  father. 

Later  in  the  evening  Palmer  was  in  the  tent  of 
Baxter,  the  commissary.  That  functionary  was  pre- 
sent, acting  as  host,  and  his  guests,  besides  Palmer, 
were  Dr.  Frank,  a  surgeon,  a  young  lieutenant.  Pot- 
ter, and  two  or  three  other  officers.  They  all  sat  on 
stools  or  the  host's  bunk.  On  a  rough  box,  which 
served  for  a  table,  stood  a  bottle,  two  tin  cups  and  a 
tallow  candle  stuck  in  a  block  of  wood.  Baxter  was 
entertaining  the  others  with  noisy  hilarity  that 
smacked  of  the  bottle.  Dr.  Frank  was  silent,  sober 
and  sm-ly.  He  was  a  bachelor  of  fifty,  with  -heavy, 
grey  mustache  and  shaggy  brows.  He  had  served 
long  in  the  Federal  navy,  and  was  reputed  to  be  very 
skilful  in  his  profession.  He  was  as  gentle  as  a 
woman  with  the  sick,  but  crusty  with  men  who  pre- 
sumed to  enjoy  good  health.  He  was  a  sworn  enemy 
of  all  soldiers  who  attempted  to   shirk  trom  duty 


ROEBUCK.  187 

by  feigning  sickness.  He  had  a  habit  which  made 
his  scanty  conversation  consist  mainly  of  oaths. 

"  Drink,  gentlemen,"  said  Baxter,  setting  an  exam- 
ple, ''  drink.  I  can  recommend  my  commissary  stores. 
This  Co  federate  whiskey  is  an  excellent  summer 
drink.  It  would  cool  a  fever.  It  is  better  than  sher- 
bet for  this  warm  weather.  Doctor  Frank,  you  shall 
take  some  of  my  medicinal  water." 

The  doctor  growled  out  a  refusal  with  an  oath. 

''  Don't  swear,  doctor,  don't,"  said  Baxter.  "  That 
reminds  me,  gentlemen,  you  have  been  talking  of  the 
preaching  cooper.  Now  I'll  tell  you  an  anecdote  of  a 
preacher  and  Doctor  Frank.  The  doctor,  you  know, 
Bwears  more  oaths  than  the  Yankees  prescribe  to  the 
rebels — if  that's  possible.  Well,  a  few  days  ago, 
being  scarce  of  tents,  I  suppose,  they  billetted  a  chap- 
lain on  our  swearing  friend,  and  the  two  have  had  to 
sleep  under  the  same  canvass.  It  is  the  surgeon's 
habit  to  stand  at  the  door  of  his  tent  at  an  early  hour 
every  morning,  to  hear  the  applications  of  soldiers  for 
certificates  of  ill  health  to  excuse  them  from  fatigue 
duty  for  the  day.  He  thinks  most  of  them  are  shirk- 
ing, and  he  curses  those  fellows  high  and  low,  in  or- 
der^ as  he  says,  to  maintain  discipline.  Two  or  three 
mornings  since,  I  was  passing  and  saw  the  doctor  at 
his  levee.  He  had  been  up  all  night  with  a  poor 
devil  who  threatened  to  slip  through  his  fingers,  and 
liis  nerves,  no  doubt,  were  more  irritable  than  usual. 
He  believed  that  the  entire  bevy  of  applicants  were 
shirkers.  He  looked  at  them  with  brows  like  a  jagged 
thunder-cloud.  He  compressed  his  lips  as  if  he  was 
holding  in  a  young  earthquake.  Suddenly  he  turned 
and  looked  in  at  the  bunk  where  the  chaplain  lay. 
Then  he  turned  to  scowl  on  the  shirkers.     Again  ho 


138  ROEBUCK. 

peered  in  at  the  chaplain,  and  again  turned  to  the 
waiting  crowd.  Then  burst  out  the  earthquake. 
*  By ,'  he  exclaimed,  '  I  will  swear — I  must  main- 
tain discipline^!  have  not  cursed  these  fellows  for  a 
week,  and  now  they  are  all  shirking — what's  a 
preacher?  he's  only  a  man — I  will  swear.'  Well,  ho 
swore.  All  the  oaths  that  he  had  corked  up  for  a 
week,  from  respect  to  the  clergy,  rushed  out  in  one  I 
volume.  He  scattered  that  squad  of  shirkers  faster 
and  farther  than  the  Yanks  were  routed  yesterday." 

The  surgeon  swore  a  little,  and  the  others  laughed, 
except  Palmer. 

"  Why  don't  you  laugh.  Palmer  ?  That  was  a  good 
story,"  said  Baxter. 

But  the  quarter-master,  perhaps,  was  not  in  a  meny 
mood  that  evening,  and  he  had  a  recollection  of  one 
of  Baxter's  practical  jokes  that  disinclined  him  to  ap- 
plaud the  commissary's  wit.     He  replied : — 

''  I  am  not  bound  to  laugh,  am  I  ?" 

"Everybody  but  a  churl  laughs  at  a  good  joke  in 
jovial  company." 

"  Profanity  does  not  amuse  me." 

"O,  Puritan !"  cried  Baxter,  with  a  sneer. 

"  At  all  events,  I  am  not  a  buffoon,"  retorted  Palmer 
with  a  scowl. 

Baxter  instantly  rose  and  slapped  Palmer's  face 
with  his  open  hand.  The  latter  stood  a  moment 
white  with  rage,  and  then  saying,  "  you  shall  hear  from 
me,  sir,"  he  flung  himself  out  of  the  tent. 

"  Let's  take  another  drink,"  said  Baxter,  resuming 
his  seat.  But  his  visitors  declined  the  invitation  and 
took  leave  of  him.  They  anticipated  the  consequences 
of  the  quarrel.  They  condemned  the  conduct  of 
Baxter,  but  they  did  not  esteem  Palmer.     They  con- 


ROEBUCK,  180 

sldercd  thnt  the  aiFair  between  them  had  proceeded 
too  far  to  be  stopped.  Blood  for  a  blow,  was  a  maxim 
that  permitted  no  pacification  at  that  stage  by  the  me- 
diation of  friends,  according  to  their  notions.  Nothing 
was  left  for  them  but  to  stand  aside,  and  let  the  affair 
take  its  course.  When  they  had  left  him,  Baxter  sat 
looking  at  his  bottle  for  some  time,  and  then  said  to 
himself — "  Now,  there's  poor  Corporal  Jones  would 
be  the  better  of  a  few  drops  of  that  liquor.  I'll  go  to 
see  him.  I  expect  he'll  die  to-night.  I'll  help  him 
to  go  off  the  hooks  easy."  He  filled  the  bottle  and 
started  out  with  it  in  his  hand. 

It  was  near  midnight  when  Palmer  entered  the  tent 
of  Lieutenant  Potter,  Avho  was  then  asleep,  and  asked 
him  to  get  up.  "  Mr.  Potter,"  said  he  Avdth  agitation, 
"  I  want  your  advice." 

"  About  what  V  said  Potter,  turning  over  and 
yawning. 

"  About  that  affair." 

"  Oh — ah — yes,"  replied  Potter,  rubbing  his  eyes, 
"  you  mean  that  affair  with  Baxter,"  and  he  yawned 
again. 

"  Yes.     What  ought  I  to  do  V 

"  Don't  you  know '?" 

"  Really  I  do  not." 

"  Then  you  are  a  fool,"  said  Potter,  and  he  turned 
over  to  sleep  again. 

"  But,  Mr.  Potter,  indeed  you  must  advise  me.  I 
am  in  trouble.  I  have  no  friend  here  to  consult  with 
— do  advise  me." 

"  Didn't  you  threaten  that  he  should  heai*  from 
you  f 

"Well?" 

"  Didn't  he  strike  you  V* 


140  ROEBUCK. 

*'  Yes." 

"  Don't  you  intend  to  challenge  him  V* 

"  It  is  on  that  point  I  want  advice.  I  am  consci- 
entionsly  opposed  to  duelling." 

"Did  you  ever  tell  anybody  so  before?" 

"  Well — no — I  believe  not." 

"  You  have  allowed  it  to  be  understood  that  you  ac- 
knowledge the  code  ?" 

"  Perhaps  I  have,  thoughtlessly." 

"  Then  you  are  thoughtful  too  late.  If  a  gentleman 
is  only  known  to  be  religious  and  consistent,  he  may 
decline  a  duel  without  disgi*ace.  Such  a  man  is  sel- 
dom insulted  and  never  insults.  But  if  a  man  becomes 
conscientious  only  when  there  is  a  pistol  in  view,  peo- 
ple draw  ugly  inferences." 

"  You  think  then  that  I  must  challensce  him  ?" 

"  I  have  not  said  that.  I  have  not  undertaken  to 
advise  you.  We  are  almost  strangers  to  each  other. 
1  can  have  nothing  to  do  with  a  duel  without  resign- 
ing my  commission.     You  must  excuse  me." 

"  To  whem  can  I  apply.     I  am  much  distressed." 

"  I  can  find  you  an  adviser.  Bullitt,  from  Rich- 
mond, is  now  in  camp.  He  is  the  very  man  for  affairs 
of  honor.  He  knows  all  about  them.  He  studies 
them.  He  practises  them.  He'd  rather  be  invited  to 
a  duel  than  to  a  dinner.  He  will  be  glad  to  advise 
you  and  act  for  you  too,  as  yom*  friend.  He  is  like  a 
Quaker,  a  friend  to  all  the  world.  Come  along,  I"  11 
introduce  you  to  him." 

During  this  speech  Potter  got  up  and  put  on  his 
clothes.  At  the  end  of  it  he  started  out  of  the  tent, 
followed  by  Palmer,  who  felt  but  little  encouraged  by 
the  character  of  the  friend  he  was  about  to  meet,  as 
sketched  by  his  guide.      He  was  dragged  onward, 


roebuce:.  141 

hoTvever,  by  the  circumstances  of  his  position  and  by 
his  fear  of  losing  caste  among  young  men  of  spirit. 
Through  the  mud  and  darkness  Potter  marched  on 
inexorably,  and  Palmer  trudged  after  him  in  rueful 
Bilence.  At  length  they  arrived  at  a  tent  in  which 
T\Ir.  Bullitt,  the  man  of  honor,  was  lodging  as  the  guest 
of  a  friend.  Potter  called  him,  and  as  soon  as  he  was 
awake,  signified  to  him  that  an  officer  desired  some 
private  conversation  with  him.  With  great  alertness 
he  sprang  from  the  cot  on  which  he  slept  and  bi'iskly 
stepped  out  of  the  tent.  Potter  announced  his  own 
name,  for  they  could  not  distinguish  each  other  in  the 
dark,  and  then  introduced  Captain  Palmer.  He  in- 
formed Mr.  Bullitt  that  the  captain  was  involved  in  a 
delicate  affair  and  needed  a  friend.  "  I  have  taken 
the  liberty,"  he  added,  "  to  recommed  him  to  you  and 
to  assure  hira  that  you  would  not  refuse  him  the  favor 
he  desires." 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  will  alFord  me  pleasure  to  act 
as  a  friend  of  any  friend  of  yours,  Mr.  Potter,"  said 
Bullitt. 

"  Then,  gentlemen,  I  may  leave  you  together  ;  good 
night,  gentlemen." 

Bullett,  by  a  few  rapid  and  decisive  questions,  drew 
from  Palmer  the  material  circumstances,  and  then 
bounced  into  the  tent,  where  he  got  a  match,  lighted  a 
candle,  drew  forth  paper,  pen  and  ink,  placed  them 
on  a  board  upon  his  knee  and  began  to  write.  Palmer 
could  then  see  that  he  was  a  small,  withered  man, 
with  no  clothes  on  him  but  a  shirt  and  pantaloons,  a 
red  night-cap,  with  a  huge  tassel,  and  muddy  boots, 
hastily  pulled  on  so  as  to  carry  his  wrinkled  panta- 
loons with  them  up  to  his  knees.  He  had  a  peaked 
nose,  little  glistening  black  eyes  and  a  long,  heavy 


142  ROEBUCK. 

mustache,  which,  like  his  hair,  had  been  black  but  wM 
somewhat  grizzled.  He  moved  with  quick,  decisive 
energy,  and  wrot«  with  furious  rapidity.  In  a  few 
minutes  lie  produced  two  documents,  and  requested 
Captain  Palmer  to  sign  them.  One  was  a  resignation 
of  his  commission  as  quarter-master,  and  the  other  a 
peremptory  challenge  to  Baxter.  Palmer  read  them 
over  and  signed  them,  not  knowing  what  else  to 
do.  He  had  expected  his  adviser  to  offer  him  some 
advice,  but  the  artificer  of  duels  had  not  imagined  that 
there  could  be  a  doubt  in  the  mind  of  any  one  as  to 
the  proper  course  to  be  pui'sued. 

"Kow,  Captain  Palmer,"  said  his  friend,  ''I  wiU 
forward  your  resignation  to  the  adjutant  and  I  will 
deliver  the  note  to  Captain  Baxter  forthwith.  You 
can  he  down  and  refresh  yourself  with  sleep.  I  will 
call  you  when  you  are  needed." 

Palmer  was  not  very  sleepy  at  that  moment.  Ho 
looked  at  Bullitt  while  he  jerked  on  his  coat,  flung 
aside  his  night-cap  and  covered  his  head  with  an  old- 
fashioned  cocked  hat,  which  it  was  his  fancy  to  wear. 
They  then  walked  together  to  the  quarter-master's 
tent,  and  Bullitt,  having  obtained  the  information 
necessary  for  finding  Baxter,  went  on  alone,  while  his 
principal  stood  wondering  how  soon  that  brisk  step  of 
his  second  would  bring  him  back  with  an  announce- 
ment that  all  things  Avere  ready,  and  Captain  Palmer 
was  to  be  shot  at  without  more  delay.  Bullitt  found 
the  commissary's  quarters,  but  Baxter  was  not  there. 
After  satisfying  himself  of  that  fact,  the  faithful  Mend, 
not  knowing  how  to  find  the  adversary  except  by 
waiting  for  him  to  return,  began  to  pace  backward 
and  forward  before  his  tent  like  a  sentinel.  He  kept 
up  that  oscillating  march  with  exemplary  perseverance 


ROEBUCK.  143 

.until  day  was  breaking.  He  then  discovered  a  man 
passing  not  far  i*rom  hira,  and  approaching  the  passen- 
ger, he  inquired  if  that  person  knew  where  Captain 
Baxter  might  be  found.  "  Come  with  me,"  replied 
the  man,  who  happened  to  be  Doctor  Frank,  on  his 
way  to  visit  Corporal  Jones.  Bullitt  followed,  until 
they  arrived  at  the  entrance  of  a  tent,  where  they 
paused  in  consequence  of  what  they  saw  and  heard. 
Within  the  tent  Baxter  was  standing  over  a  cot  occu- 
pied by  a  sick  man,  and  as  he  arranged  the  pillow,  he 
said — "  now,  Jones,  I  am  going  to  leave  you,  old  fel- 
low.    The  surgeon  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes." 

"  O,  captain,"  said  the  sick .,  man,  feebly,  "  I  am  so 
much  obliged  to  you  for  staying  with  me  all  night. 
You  have  done  me  so  much  good.  I  had  not  laughed 
before  since  I  was  taken  sick." 

"  You  are  going  to  be  well  soon.  Keep  up  your 
spirits.  I'll  put  this  bottle  under  your  head  to  keep 
your  spu'its  up.  This  is  the  great  medicine  after  all. 
.It  beats  the  doctors  and  the  quack  pills  to  boot.  I 
would  have  been  under  the  ground  long  ago  if  I  had 
not  been  drunk  half  my  life — or  half  drunk  all  my  life. 
I  am  not  sure  which  is  the  best  division  of  time.  I 
believe  if  a  man  was  kept  drunk  all  day  and  half  drunk 
all  night  it  would  be  a  pretty  even  divide.  Don't  you 
feel  better  now  V 

The  patient  laughed.  The  sm'geon  then  went  in, 
and  Baxter,  after  making  a  brief  report  of  the  sick 
man's  condition  dm*ing  the  night,  went  out  of  the  tent. 
Bullitt  met  him,  touched  his  cocked  hat,  and  said, 
"  Captain  Baxter,  I  believe  1  Mr.  Bullitt.  I  am  the 
bearer  of  a  message  for  you,  sir.  May  I  see  you  at 
yom-  quarters  V 

"  I  am  going  there.    But  you  may  save  time  by 


Ui  ROEBUCK. 

delivering  tho  message  at  once.  Is  it  from  Captain 
Palmer  t" 

"  Yes ;  this  is  the  note,  sir.*' 

*'  What  does  he  want  1"  asked  Baxter,  taking  tha 
note  but  not  reading  it ;  "  does  he  want  to  fight  V* 

"  Precisely." 

*'  Yery  well ;  bring  him  along." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  Please  refer  me  to  your 
fi'iend,  captain,  to  settle  the  necessary  arrangements." 

"  I  am  my  own  friend.  We'll  settle  the  an-ange- 
ments  as  we  walk  to  the  ground.  I  have  pistols  in  my 
tent — or  you  may  bring  yours." 

"  I  do  not  understand  this  mode  of  proceeding. 
You  seem  to  be  jesting.  But  I'll  wait  until  you  have 
read  the  note  and  written  your  answer." 

"  I  won't  wait.  I've  been  up  all  night  and  I  must 
have  a  nap  before  breakfast.  This  affair  must  be  dis- 
patched at  once,  so  that  I  may  go  to  bed." 

"  Surely  you  jest,  sir.     This  is  a  grave  affair." 

"  It  may  be  grave  enough  for  your  friend,  if  I  can 
steady  my  hand  this  morning." 

"  But  your  friend — yoa  will  refer  me  to  youi 
friend!" 

"  I  have  no  friend.  I  want  no  friend.  I  have  no 
time  to  be  looking  for  a  friend  now." 

"  You  will  not  go  to  the  field  alone  ?" 

"  I  hope  to  see  you  there,  if  not  Palmer.  Come 
along." 

"But,  sir,  this  is  irregular — absolutely  contrary  to 
all  rule.     I  protest" 

"  Mr.  Bullitt— I  think  you  called  yourself  Bullitt  V 

"  That  is  my  name,  su-." 

"  Do  you  see  that  clump  of  trees,  with  a  tall  pine  in 
the  centre — there — about  two  miles  off?** 


ROEBUCK.  U5 

"I  see  it." 

"  I  shall  be  there — just  beyond  that  clump  of  trees 
in  forty  minutes.  If  you  and  your  principal  are  not 
thore  within  an  hour  from  this  time — it  is  just  five — 
you  must  take  the  consequences.  Weapons — pistols. 
])istance — ten  paces.     Good  morning,  sir." 

*'  Stop,  captain,"  cried  Bullitt,  following  him  as  he 
walked  off,  "  this  is  most  irregular.  There  is  no  pre- 
cedent for  it.  Two  against  one !  You  on  the  ground 
alone,  and  the  other  party  with  a  friend!  It  will  be 
murder." 

"  Murder,  when  I  shoot  your  principal  ?  You  can 
take  care  of  him.  Doctor  Frank,  I  dare  say,  will  go 
with  us  if  you  ask  him." 

*'  With  whom  shall  I  consult — negotiate — arrange — 
I'm  shocked.  This  proceeding  is  out  of  all  rule.  Two 
against  one !     It  will  never  do." 

"  Well,"  said  Baxter,  "  since  you  are  shocked  I  will 
compromise  the  matter.  You  shall  act  as  the  friend 
of  both  parties." 

"  I  don't  understand  that  at  all.  That's  irregular 
too.  Can  I  aiTange  terms  with  myself?  Can  I  agree 
with  myself?  Can  I  advise  one  pai*ty  that  he  should 
be  satisfied,  and  the  other  that  he  should  not  ?  Must 
I  ask  myself  a  question  from  one  side,  and  answer  it 
myself  from  the  other?     Can  I" 

*'  Good  morning,  Mr.  Bullitt.     In  forty  minutes." 

"  Heavens !  what  shall  I  do  ?  Such  an  iiTegular 
party !  [Must  I  abandon  my  pricipal  and  go  half  over 
to  the  other  side  ?  Stay,  Captain  Baxter,"  lie  cried, 
ininning  after  that  irregular  party,  "  Stay.  This  af- 
fair must  go  on  some  way.  If  it  must  be  your  way, 
I  am  not  responsible.  I  protest,  but  under  protest,  I 
consent  to  act  as  the  common  friend  of  both  prin* 
cipals."  7 


146  ROEBUCK. 

"  All  rii^ht.     Bo  quick." 

"  I'll  bring  my  pistols.  I  always  carry  a  beautiful 
pail-." 

"Very  well.  We'll  choose  between  yours  and 
mine." 

When  Bullitt  made  known  the  aiTangement  to 
Palmer,  the  latter  was  fluttered  by  the  precipitancy 
of  action,  and  objected  to  the  part  assigned  to  Bullitt, 
as  neutralizing  his  second.  On  that  oround  he  was 
inclined  to  break  off  the  affair.  But  Bullitt  declared 
that  it  could  not  be  broken  off  without  everlasting  dis- 
grace. It  must  go  on, -even  in  this  uTegular  fashion. 
Being  thus  pressed,  and  having  neither  experience 
nor  counsellor  to  guide  him  to  a  loop-hole  of  retreat, 
Palmer  ceased  to  object.  When  the  pistols  had  been 
procured,  he  walked  to  the  appointed  field,  escorted 
by  his  second — or  half-second — and  attended  by  Doc- 
tor Frank,  with  a  very  alarming  case  of  instruments 
imder  his  arm.  When  they  reached  the  ground  Bax- 
ter was  there,  lying  asleep  on  the  grass.  After  waking 
Mm,  Bullitt  selected  the  pistols,  chose  the  ground  and 
measured  the  distance.  With  a  comical  air  of  per- 
plexity he  tossed  up  with  himself  for  the  choice  of 
position,  and  arranged  with  himself  all  the  prelimina- 
lies  in  the  most  formal  manner.  He  was  repeatedly 
embarrassed  by  his  neutral  or  equivocal  relation  to 
the  parties.  After  placing  them  in  position,  and  giv- 
ing them  their  weapons,  he  paused  and  gravely  ad- 
dressed them.  , 

"  Gentlemen,  I  must  now  formally  protest  in  pre- 
sence of  you  both, 'as  I  have  protested  to  you  seve- 
rally, that  the  mode  of  proceeding  adopted  on  tliis  oc- 
casion is  entii'ely  irregular.  I  have  acceded  to  it  only 
from  necessity.     I  will  not  be  responsible  for  the  con- 


nOEBUCK.  147 

Bcqucnces,  and  I  protest  that  this  case  shall  never  be 
drav\'n  into  precedent  Avith  ray  consent." 

When  he  gave,  the  word,  the  combatants  fired  al- 
most simultaneously.  They  both  remained  standing 
after  the  exchange  of  shots.  Bullitt,  looking  first  at 
one,  and  then  at  the  other,  from  his  post,  which  was 
equi-distant  from  them,  was  again  perplexed.  He 
deemed  it  his  duty  to  approach  his  principal,  but 
which  principal  first?  One  reason  came  into  his  head 
for  rendering  his  first  attention  to  Palmer,  but  another 
reason  immediately  claimed  that  preference  for  Bax- 
ter. He  started  towards  the  latter,  but  halted  and 
turned  towards  the  former.  After  one  or  two  more 
such  zigzags,  be  threw  up  his  hands  in  despair,  and 
darted  at  Baxter. 

"  Are  you  hurt,  Captain  Baxter  ?"  he  cried. 

"  No,"  said  Baxter,  quietly,  "  neither  of  us  is  hurt. 
I  raised  the  dust  from  his  pants,  but  my  ball  struck 
the  ground  ten  feet  beyond  him.  His  ball  struck  that 
weed  about  a  yard  from  me.     I  saw  it  shake." 

Bullitt  went  to  Palmer,  who,  though  not  very  cour- 
ageous, had  pride  enough  to  carry  him  thus  far 
through  the  scene  with  a  fair  show  of  firmness. 
Having  ascertained  that  he  was  not  hurt,  the  impar- 
tial second  retired  a  few  paces  to  consult  with  him- 
self as  to  the  proper  step  for  him  next  to  take.  While 
he  pondered,  he  was  reloading  the  weapons.  Sud- 
denly he  was  startled  by  a  cry  from  Palmer — "  a  con- 
stable, a  constable."  Kepeating  these  words.  Palmer 
started  from  his  post,  walking  rapidly.  "  Stop,"  said 
]3ullitt,  "  there  is  no  constable  about  here  1"  But 
Palmer  quickened  his  pace  to  a  run,  while  the  second 
shouted  after  him  frantically — "  stop,  come  back,  fool, 
coward,  poltroon,  come  back,  I  say."     But  faster  and 


148  K0E13UCK. 

faster  the  fugitive  ran,  until  he  disappeared  in  a  wood 

"  Why,  if  s  Hugh  Fitzhngh."  said  Baxter,  pointing 
at  a  man  who  was  approaching  them,  and  who  had 
been  seen  first  by  Pahuer.  Some  duty  had  brought 
Captain  Fitzhugh  neai*  enough  to  the  spot  to  hear  the 
sound  of  the  pistols,  and  thinking  it  Avas  some  alarm 
or  irregularity  of  pickets,  he  hastened  in  the  direction 
of  the  sound  to  learn  the  cause.  As  he  came  for- 
Avard,  Bullitt  said — "Captain  Baxter,  I  am  deeply 
mortified  at  the  conduct  of  my  first  principal.  Bat, 
of  course,  I  take  his  place  now.  With  that  view  you 
will  excuse  me,  I  am  sure,  for  resuming  entire  my 
original  relation  as  his  second.  I  trust,  sh*,"  he  con- 
tinued, addressing  Captain  Fitzhugh,  "  although  I 
have  not  the  honor  of  your  acquaintance,  you  A\-ill 
oblige  us  by  performing  for  Captain  Baxter  and  my- 
self the  part  which  I  had  undertaken  to  perform  for 
him  and  Captain  Palmer.  It  is  very  UTegular,  I  ad- 
mit, but  necessity  may  excuse  it.  Captain  Baxter,  does 
this  meet  your  approbation  V 

"  What  does  all  this  mean  ?"  inquired  Fitzhugh. 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  responded  Baxter  ;  "  this  gentleman 
—Mr.  Bullitt,  Captain  Fitzhugh — desires  to  exchange 
shots  with  me  and  I  have  no  objection.  You  will 
Htand  by  and  see  fair  play." 

"  I'll  do  no  such  thing.     This  folly  must  stop  here." 

''  Of  coiH'se,"  said  Bullitt,  '"  such  an  afi^liir  must 
come  to  an  untimely  end  when  a  third  party  steps  in 
to  interfere  with  it.     But  I  protest  " 

'•Never  mind  your  protest,"  interrupted  Baxter, 
"  let's  go  to  breakfast." 

"Now,"  said  Fitzhugh,  after  he  had,  by  inqumng 
of  Baxter,  learned  some  particulars  of  the  afl'air,  "  let 
us  agree   to   say   nothing   of  Palmei'*s  conduct.     It 


n  0  £  B  U  C  K .  1-19 

would  injure   him  and  do  no  good.     He  is  new  to 
such  things." 

'•'  O.  he  has  carried  the  matter  to  camp  in  his  heels," 
replied  Baxter,  "  but  I  shall  say  nothing  about  it." 

"  I  am  not  sure  what  I  shall  do  about  this  affair," 
said  Bullitt,  testily  ;  "  the  whole  business  has  been  so 
irregular  that  I  don't  know  whether  I  shall  allow  any 
gentleman  to  allude  to  it  in  my  presence  without  giv- 
ing me  satisfaction.  I  must  look  up  the  authorities 
before  I  commit  myself" 

The  three  walked  together  towards  the  camp,  and 
after  going  some  distance,  Baxter  exclaimed — "the 
surgeon  !  we  have  forgotten  the  doctor."  He  had  sat 
in  the  clump  of  trees  dming  the  proceedings.  Turn- 
ing back,  they  saw  him  marching  along  behind  them 
and  looking  very  surly.  They  waited  for  him,  and  as 
he  approached,  they  heard  him  growling  and. cursing. 
"  Humbug,"  he  grunted,  "  humbug — no  need  of  a 
surgeon  for  this  party  " — with  an  appendix  of  oaths. 
They  spoke  to  him  and  endeavored  to  apologize  for 
leaving  him,  but  he  gave  neither  heed  nor  reply. 
He  marched  past,  muttering  the  same  contemptuous 
oaths. 

Palmer  did  not  halt  until  he  found  himself  five  or 
six  miles  from  the  camp.  Then  he  sat  down  upon  a 
log  and  held  a  council  in  his  own  bosom.  He  re- 
flected that  the  failure  of  his  matrimonial  project  had 
cut  the  principal  tie  which  bound  him  to  the  Southern 
cause,  and  now  if  he  returned  to  the  army,  he  thought 
he  must  encounter  disgrace  on  account  of  this  morn- 
ing's proceed!^  igs.  His  commission  and  his  character 
were  gone.  He  began  to  recall  the  obligations  of 
birth  and  to  speculate  upon  the  chances  of  improving- 
his  condition  by  transferring  himself  to  the  North. 
Upon  this  theme  he  sat  musing  a  long  time. 


150  ROEBUCK., 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

ROEBUCK   AFTER    MAN  ASS  A. 

From  various  causes  the  camp  at  Manassa  proved 
to  be  unfiivorable  to  the  recovery  of  the  sick  and 
wounded.  In  two  or  three  days  after  the  battle, 
Doctor  Fairfax  became  satisfied  that  if  he  remained 
there  his  wound,  already  showing  unpleasant  symp- 
toms, would  be  slow  to  heal,  and  he  decided  to  return 
home  for  a  time.  Not  being  an  enlisted  soldiei^  he 
obtained  permission  without  difiiculty.  In  the  mean- 
time he  had  been  almost  constantly  with  Captain  Tre- 
maine.  Sympathy  and  respect  rapidly  ripened  into 
friendship  for  that  gallant  and  unfortunate  gentleman. 
The  doctor  became  so  warmly  interested  in  his  re- 
covery that  he  desired  to  take  him  to  his  own  house, 
where  he  might  have  the  benefit  of  such  nursing  and 
care  as  a  camp  could  not  afford.  "When  he  invited  the 
captain  to  accompany  him  the  wounded  prisoner  was 
very  grateful.  Through  the  exertions  of  Doctor  Fair- 
fax and  Captain  Fitzhugh,  the  consent  of  the  proper 
authorities  was  obtained.  The  prisoner's  condition 
was  very  critical,  but  as  the  journey  was  to  be  almost 
entirely  by  railway,  it  was  hoped  that  he  would  be 
but  little  injured  by  removal,  under  the  judicious  care 
of  the  doctor.  Being  among  strangers,  the  wounded 
man  naturally  found  some  comfort  in  the  society  of  a 
person  from  his  own  country  and  of  his  own  political 
sentiments.  He  had,  therefore,  taken  some  pleasure 
in  the  presence  of  Campbell,  and,  perhaps  at  the  sug- 


ROEBUCK.  161 

gestion  of  Ihfit  modest  gentleman,  he  expressed,  with 
ipparent  hesitation,  a  desire  that  his  Northern  Country- 
man should  accompany  him,  if  that  should  be  found 
practicable  and  was  agreeable  to  Doctor  Fairfax.  The 
doctor  was  not  averse  to  the  arrangement.  His  inter- 
est in  "  Bombyx,"  as  a  study,  was  not  diminished  by 
their  intercourse,  and  he  was  willing  to  be  amused  at 
home  by  this  curious  specimen.  Besides,  he  desired 
to  oblige  Captain  Tremaine  in  every  way.  Camp- 
bell had  already  been  informed  that,  as  a  civilian  and 
a  mere  spectator  of  the  battle,  he  would  not  be  treated 
as.  a  prisoner  of  war,  but  that,  for  military  reasons,  it 
Avas  deemed  necessary  to  detain  him  for  a  short  time 
within  the  Confederate  lines.  It  was  finally  arranged 
that  both  Tremaine  and  Campbell,  giving  suitable 
paroles,  should  accompany  Doctor  Fairfax.  The  doc- 
tor notified  his  brother  that,  being  slightly  wounded, 
he  was  about  to  return  home  with  two  wounded 
friends-,  and  he  requested  that  his  own  house  might  be 
prepared  for  them.  * 

This  was  the  first  information  received  at  Roebuck 
how  Doctor  Dick  had  fared  in  the  battle.  The  coun- 
try had  been  informed  with  telegraphic  brevity  that  the 
South  had  gained  a  splendid  victory  at  Manassa,  but 
with  severe  loss  in  killed  and  wounded.  Then  the 
wires  conveyed  the  names  of  generals  and  afterwards 
of  other  officers  who  had  fallen.  Next  came  an  esti- 
mate of  the  Confederate  loss,  studiously  moderate, 
but  fi-ightful  to  those  who  had  kindred  in  the  army. 
Slowly  a  few  telegrams  followed  from  survivors  to 
their  families.  But  for  several  days  nothing  was 
known  throughout  the  country  of  the  fate  of  thou- 
sands of  the  best  and  bravest  of  the  land,  who  had 
been  exposed  to  the  peril  of  a  bloody  battle.     The 


152  ROEBUCK. 

announcement  of  victory  had  thrilled  the  Southern 
people  with  joy  and  exultation.  Success  so  decisive 
in  the  first  great  battle  of  the  war  was  generally 
accepted  as  decisive  of  the  entu*e  contest.  Indepen- 
dence was  regarded  as  secure.  That  sentiment  of 
security,  with  the  subsequent  inaction  of  the  army,  was 
very  detrimental  to  the  Confederate  cause.  The  first 
year  of  the  war,  when  the  native  courage  and  fresh 
enthusiasm  of  the  Southern  troops  made  them  irre- 
sistible on  an  equal  field,  was  almost  thrown  away, 
and  the  time  thus  lost  could  never  be  recovered.  But 
after  the  fir.st  exultant  echo  of  triumph  came  the  wail 
of  a  people  for  the  loved  ones  who  had  purchased  the 
victory  with  their  blood.  There  was  agony,  borno 
with  patriotic  fortitude,  but  it  was  agony. 

The  family  at  Roebuck  were  relieved  of  painful 
anxiety  when  they  learned  that  Doctor  Fairfax  was 
returning  home,  only  slightly  wounded.  Preparations 
were  made  to  receive  him  and  his  two  friends,  who 
were  supposed  to  be  Confederate  soldiers.  It  was  de- 
cided that  a  bachelor's  establishment  was  not  a  fit 
place  for  wounded  patriots,  and  that  the  comforts  of 
Roebuck  and  the  tender  care  of  women  would  be 
absolutely  necessary.  When  the  train,  which  vras  ex- 
pected to  bring  the  doctor  and  his  friends,  arrived, 
Colonel  Fred  was  at  the  station.  Captain  Tremaine 
was  borne  from  the  train  on  a  cot,  preceded  by  Doctor 
Fahfax,  on  crutches,  and  followed  by  Cam})bell,  limp- 
ing on  a  cane. 

•'  \Yelcome,  brother  Dick,"  exclaimed  the  colonel, 
*'  welcome  home  ;  are  these  your  friends '?  Welcome, 
gentlemen ;  bring  them  along,  Dick :  here  is  the 
carriage  ;  here's  a  spring  wagon  with  a  bed  on  it,  in 
case  any  of  you  need  itj  let  me  help  to  carry  your 


ROEBUCK.  153 

friend  ;  come  along ;  you  are  all  going  to  Roebuck  ; 
the  ladies  are  waiting  for  you ;  not  a  word ;  thrco 
wounded  gentlemen  to  be  laid  up  in  a  bachelor's 
barracks  !  preposterous !   it  is  all  settled  ;   come  on." 

"  But,  brother  Fred,"  repeated  the  doctor,  several 
times,  while  the  colonel  was  delivering  this  speech 
with  great  animation;  '•  but,  brother  Fred,"  and  he 
plucked  the  colonel's  sleeve,  and  attempted  to  draw 
him  aside,  for  the  prospect  of  carrying  Campbell  to 
be  domiciled  with  the  family  at  Roebuck  horrified 
Iiim-;  "  but,  brother  Fred,"  he  finally  exclaimed,  "  they 
are  Yankees." 

"  Yankees,  Dick  1  Good  God !  Have  you  brought 
a  brace  of  Yankees  here  1     You !" 

Now,  the  colonel  was  a  kind-hearted  man.  He  had 
been  opposed  to  secession  and  war.  He  had  not 
cherished  that  animosity  against  the  Northern  people 
which  his  brother  proclaimed.  But  war  engendered 
bitter  hatred  in  the  mildest  tempers.  Atrocities  wan- 
tonly inflicted,  as  he  believed,  with  the  sanction  of 
the  highest  Federal  authorities,  provoked  in  his  bosom 
antipathy  that  was  deep,  stern  and  almost  implacable. 
His  general  indignation  against  the  North  naturally 
tinged  his  feeling  towards  all  individuals  who  were 
known  to  him  only  as  abettors  of  the  North  in  the 
war.  Of  all  men  his  brother  was  the  last  whom  he 
would  have  expected  to  find  in  charitable  charge  of 
such  malignant  enemies.  The  colonel  had  not  been 
a  soldier,  and,  therefore,  had  not  felt  the  charities  of 
the  battle-field  when  the  battle  is  over.     "  You !" 

Doctor  Dick,  caught  in  an  inconsistency,  reddened 
and  stammered.  He  attempted  to  explain.  But  the 
colonel  happened  to  look  at  the  face  of  Captain  Tre- 
maine.     That  prostrate  and  helpless  gentleman,  suf- 

7* 


154  ROEBUCK. 

ferin^  physical  agony,  seemed  even  more  distressed 
by  the  scene  which  he  tlien  witnessed  between  the 
two  brothers.  He  understood  enongh  of  it  to  make 
liim  feel  that  he  was  the  occasion  of  embarrassment 
and  pain  to  his  friend,  the  doctor.  His  eves  turned 
from  one  brother  to  the  other  with  an  expression  of 
anguish.  When  the  colonel  looked  at  him,  compas- 
sion took  the  place  of  anger.  He  bent  over  the  cap- 
tain, gentry  took  his  hand,  and  in  the  kindest  voice 
expressed  sympathy  and  welcome.  With  his  habitual 
promptitude  he  called  assistance,  placed  the  wounded 
officer  on  the  bed,  made  every  possible  provision  for 
his  ease  and  comfort,  and  rode  on  horseback  beside 
the  wagon,  to  see  that  the  "  Yankee"  should  receive 
no  injury.  The  doctor  and  Campbell  followed  in  the 
the  carriage  to  Roebuck. 

When  they  arrived  there,  about  sunset,  of  course 
Doctor  Dick  had  an  affectionate  welcome.  The  ladies, 
without  investigating  the  nationality  of  the  other  gen- 
tlemen, received  them  kindly,  and  offered  to  the 
wounded  captain  such  sympathetic  words  and  tender 
offices  as  his  condition  suggested.  He  was  canied 
into  a  large,  convenient  chamber,  handsomely  fur- 
nished, and  laid  upon  a  bed  that  needed  not  a  wound, 
a  joui'ney,  or  contrast  with  a  camp-cot  to  make  it 
seem  luxurious.  A  physician  of  eminence  was  sent 
for,  and  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  his  skill,  with 
the  ministrations  of  the  family,  soothed  the  patient's 
suffering  and  inspired  him  with  the  hope  of  life  and 
health.  At  his  request,  a  bed  was  placed  in  his  cham- 
ber for  his  countryman,  Campbell. 

When  those  guests  had  been  disposed  of  for  the 
night,  and  the  wound  of  Doctor  Fairfax  had  been 
dressed — a  wound  which  Mrs.  Fairfax  pronounced  to 


ROEBUCK.  155 

be  alarming,  and  which  the  physician  thought  would 
require  repose  and  care— that  disabled  soldier  lay 
upon  a  sofa,  like  a  warrior  taking  his  rest,  but  ready, 
as  usual,  to  talk. 

"  Now,  Colonel  Julia,"  he  said,  "  come  and  kiss 
me,  like  a  good  girl,  and  then,  like  a  colonel,  you 
shall  talk  to  me  about  war.  I  know  you  are  dying  to 
hear  all  I  have  to  tell  about  the  great  battle  and  vic- 
tory, and  especially,  about  my  own  martial  exploits. 
I  believe  now,  my  fair  Desdemona,  I  might  win  your 
love,  if  I  wanted  it,  like  Othello,  by  bragging." 
"  You  can  never  win  my  love.  Uncle  Dick." 

"  Why,  Miss,  t-ell  me  why,  you  saucy" ■ 

"  Because  you  have  had  it  ever  so  long." 
"Fudge!     But)  speaking  of  love,  what  have  you 
done  to  bewitch  that  feather-brained  fellow,  Hugh 
Fitzhugh'?" 

"  I  am  not  a  witch,  uncle,  and  Captain  Fitzhugh  is 
not  feather-brained,  I  believe,"  replied  Julia,  smiling 
and  blushing. 

"  Well,  he  is  a  sad  fellow ;  we'll  not  talk  of  him." 
"  But  you  must  not  disparage  my  friends  in  their 
absence." 

"  O,  he's  a  friend  of  yours  ?  Then  1  shall  not  slan- 
der him — much." 

"  Fie !  Be  serious — noAV  do — and  tell  us  about  the 
battle." 

The  story  of  Manassa,  as  then  told  by  the  doctor 
to  his  brother  and  the  two  ladies,  had  for  them  the 
fascination  of  novelty,  of  tragedy  and  triumph.  They 
were  not  yet  familiar  with  the  aAvful  scenes  of  a  long 
and  sanguinaiy  contest.  To  them  that  battle,  with 
its  victory,  seemed  enough  of  carnage  and  of  glory  for 
an  entire  war.     To  the  ladies  particularly,  it  appeared 


156  ROEBUCK. 

that  the  end  of  the  war  was  achieved.  The  story 
filled  their  imaginations,  like  a  noble  history  already 
complete.  When  the  doctor  had  described  the  events 
of  chief  importance,  he  began  to  entertain  them  with 
anecdotes  of  personal  adventure.  One  of  them  related 
to  some  of  the  personages  of  this  narrative. 

''  There  is  Captain  Fitzhugh,  now — your  friend, 
Colonel  Julia — he  has  the  name  of  being  a  brave  man 
— I  shall  say  nothing  against  your  friend  on  that 
score — but,  like  the  rest  of  us,  he  is  a  raw  soldier  and 
may  blunder  into  scrapes — and  he  rides  a  fleet  horse — 
that  I  know ;  the  Yankees  know  it  too,  for  they  hav€ 
seen  his  heels." 

Having  said  so  much,  with  significant  looks  and 
tones,  he  paused  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  Julia,  as  if  ex- 
pecting her  to  invite  an  explanation  of  his  hints. 
But  some  maidenly  coyness  or  consciousness  sealed 
her  sweet  lips,  and  sent  a  blush  to  her  beautiful 
cheeks.  Mrs.  Fairfax  had  no  such  feeling  to  restrain 
the  curiosity  which  belongs  to  her  sex — and  to  the 
haughtier  sex. 

"  Go  on,*'  she  said,  "  tell  us  what  you  have  to  tell 
about  Hugh." 

"  Well,  Hugh  is  a  warrior,  who,  by  the  diligent 
study  of  his  profession,  has  discovered  that  the  whole 
ai't  of  war  is  neatly  packed  away  in  a  few  words  of  an 
old  Greek  poet,  or  in  two  lines  of  modern  parody — 

'  He  that  fights,  and  runs  away, 
May  live  to  fight  another  day.' 

On  one  occasion,  however,  he  would  have  prefeijed,  I 
believe,  to  omit  the  preliminary  fight  suggested  by  the 
poet  before  running." 


ROEBUCK.  157 

"  Uncle  Dick,  you  shall  not" 

"Whatr 

"  Come,"  said  the  colonel,  laughing,  "  you  shall  not 
tease  the  ladies  with  your  scandalous  hints.  Tell  your 
tale  like  a  man." 

"  Well,  if  I  must,  I  must.  But  you  shall  not  blame 
me,  Julia,  if  the  story  does  not  please  you.  Once 
upon  a  time,  then — it  was  a  few  days  before  the  battle 
— Captain  Fitzhugii  was  sent  to  spy  out — you  would 
say  to  reconnoitre,  Colonel  Julia — a  position  of  the 
enemy.  About  sunrise  he  went  some  two  miles  in 
advance  of  his  company,  to  a  hill  from  which  he  ex- 
pected to  obtain  a  near  and  clear  view  of  the  position. 
He  took  with  him  only  two  men.  One  of  them  was 
Mark  Marlin,  the  young  man,  JuHa,  who  has  taken 
your  gentlemanly  father  for  his  model.  It  is  not  ne- 
cessary to  name  the  other  man.  They  were  all  well 
mounted.  The  men,  perhaps,  were  selected  with  a 
view  to  the  fleetness  of  their  horses,  according  to  the 
fundamental  flying  principle  of  the  captain.  Hugh 
rode  his  famous  black,  Sultan.  Mark  was  on  the  horse 
you  gave  him,  brother  Fred." 

"  Sold  to  him." 

"  Well,  the  other  soldier  had  a  swifter  nag  than 
either  of  them,  as  the  result  showed.  When  they  ar- 
rived at  the  hill,  it  was  so  densely  wooded  that  the 
captain  deemed  it  necessary  to  descend  alone  to  an 
open  bench  or  little  plateau,  from  which  he  could 
plainly  see  the  whole  batch  of  Yankees  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  a  small  stream.  He  was  as  clearly  seen 
himself  by  the  hostile  pickets  along  the  margin  of  the 
stream,  and  he  stood  within  easy  range  of  their  guns. 
He  remained  there  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  while  a  dozen 
of  the  blue-coats  were  firing  away  at  him,  and  how 


158  ROEBUCK. 

he  escaped  injury  I  cannot  imagine.  Just  as  he  re- 
turned to  his  two  fo. lowers  they  had  discovered  a 
squad  of  the  enemy's  cavahy,  eight  or  ten  in  number, 
making  for  the  road  by  which  they  had  come.  To 
return  on  that  road  was  impossible.  To  remain  was 
out  of  the  question.  Tliere  was  no  way  to  get  back 
to  the  company  but  by  scouring  across  open  fields  in 
full  view  of  the  enemy,  and  trusting  to  luck  and 
speed.  So  we — so  the  captain  led  off,  commanding 
the  two  men  to  follow,  or  to  make  their  way  back  as 
they  should  find  it  necessary.  He  was  able  to  keep' 
ahead  of  Mark,  but  the  other  grey-back  distanced 
them  both.  They  were  soon  discovered  by  the  Yan- 
kee squad,  wht>  immediately  attempted  to  intercept 
them.  They  succeeded  in  cutting  off  Marlin,  and 
bringing  him  to  bay.  The  brave  boy  drew  his  sabre, 
and  endeavored  to  cut  his  way  through  them.  The 
captain,  looking  back,  saw  his  follower  surrounded, 
and  fighting  furiously.  Wheeling  his  horse,  Hugh 
dashed  at  the  Yankees,  and  began  to  lay  about  him 
with  such  vigor  that  their  attention  was  withdrawn 
from  Mark  to  the  officer,  and  there  was  momentary 
confusion  among  them.  Seeing  that  Marlin  was  ex- 
tricated by  the  movement,  his  captain  called  out — 
'  fly,  Mark,  fly — fly,  I  command  you.'  The  soldier, 
with  the  instinct  of  military  obedience,  fled  at  the 
word  of  command,  although,  until  it  was  repeated 
with  peremptory  vehemence,  he  hesitated  to  leave  his 
officer.  The  Feds  did  not  follow  him,  but  tried  to 
close  in  upon  the  ca:^)tain.  By  the  dexterous  manage- 
ment of  his  horse  and  sword,  or  by  marvellous  for- 
tune, he  kept  his  life  among  them  until  he  thought 
Mark  had  a  sufficient  start.  Then  throwing  his  body 
forward  to  the  neck  of  his  liorse,  and  plunging  the 


ROEBUCK.  159 

spurs  into  Sultan's  sides,  he  was  carried  at  a  leap  be- 
tween uplifted  sabres  clear  of  the  Federals.  They 
pursued,  firing  their  pistols.  Only  a  few  hundred 
yards  in  advance,  there  was  a  fence  over  which  Hugh 
and  Mark  were  carried  by  their  horses  without  halt- 
ing. But  none  of  the  pursuers  ventured  the  leap. 
Thus  they  lost  time  which  was  well  employed  by  the 
flying  grey-backs.  When  they  had  crossed  one  or  two 
more  fences,  that  fortunately  crossed  their  line  of  re- 
treat, the  blue-coats  were  out  of  sight,  and  they  were 
never  seen  again.  Hugh  says  that  in  the  fray,  Mark 
emptied  one  saddle ;  and  Mark,  more  liberal  in  his 
commendation,  avers  that  his  captain  cut  down  two 
of  the  Yankees.  It  is  a  pity  that  these  witnesses  are 
not  quite  impartial,  and  that  the  other  grey- back,  who 
sneers  at  their  testimony,  had  not  remained  near 
enough  to  the  scene  of  action  to  correct  their  reports. 
But  he  had  regained  the  company,  and  spread  won- 
drous rumors  long  before  the  captain's  return." 
"  Who  was  he  V  inquired  Julia. 
"  It  is  none  of  your  business,  niece  of  mine.'* 
"  Thou  art  the  man,  I  verily  believe,  Uncle  Dick." 
"  Never  say  that,  again  1  Don't  slander  your 
uncle." 

"  Brother  Dick,"  said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  "  who  or  what 
is  this  Mr.  Campbell,  you  have  brought  home  with 
your' 

'•  A  genuine  Yankee,  my  gentle  sister,  if  there  can 
be  a  genuine  counterfeit." 

"  Uncle  Dick,  you  have  told  us  that  Captain  Tre- 
raaine  is  a  true  man." 

"  One  swallow  don't  make  a  summer,  ]\Iiss  Julia. 
As  for  Campbell,  when  I  first  saw  him,  I  thought  he 
had  a  good  face,  but  upon  examining  it,  I  found  it 


160  ROEBUCK. 

was  only  a  Yankee  imitation  of  a  good  face — made, 
like  other  Yankee  goods,  to  impose  upon  customers  at 
first  sight,  but  not  to  wear  well.  In  every  feature  there 
was  some  cunning  defect.  I  might  suspect  that,  like 
Richard,  he  was  cheated  of  feature  by  dissembling  na- 
ture ;  but  at  cheating,  a  Yankee  would  beat  nature. 
When  I  conversed  with  him — 0,  what  a  rare  bird  I  I 
thought  I  would  have  some  sport  with  him  at  home, 
but  really,  sister  Mary,  I  am  sorry  he  was  bi  ought 
here." 

"  Kever  mind ;  he  will  help  to  cheer  Captain  Tre- 
maine." 

"  I  hope  so  ;  poor  fellow !  he  is  a  gentleman.  Ah, 
me  1  But  fellows  like  Campbell  will  write  oar  his^ 
tory." 


ROEBUCK.  161 

CHAPTER   XV. 

B0  3IBYX      AT     ROEBUCK. 

Captain  Tkemaine's  condition  for  soveral  days  re- 
mained critical.  At  one  time  it  was  regarded  as  des- 
perate. Two  or  three  nights  Colonel  Fairfax  sat  by 
his  bedside  all  ni.Ofht,  and  the  physician  was  kept  in 
the  house.  But  when  the  crisis  was  past  his  convales- 
cence was  rapid.  Although  the  Federal  authorities 
had  adopted  the  inhuman  policy  of  preventing  the 
importatit)n  of  medicines  into  the  Confederacy,  the 
most  necessary  remedies  could  still  be  supplied  to  a 
Federal  prisoner.  The  patieait  constantly  received 
the  kindest  attention  from  the  family  and  from  ser- 
vants who  had  experience  in  nursing  the  sick.  Doctor 
Dick  spent  much  time  in  his  chamber,  applying  the 
physician's  instructions  Avith  professional  intelligence, 
and  amusing  the  captain  with  quaint  conversation, 
relieved  of  all  satirical  asperity  by  sympathy  and  re- 
spect for  this  ''  Yankee."  His  own  favorite  servant, 
Caleb,  divided  his  attention  between  his  master  and 
the  wounded  captain.  The  good  clergyman,  Mr. 
Ambler,  visited  him  often,  and  a  cordial  friendship  was 
established  between  them.  Tremaine  won  the  esteem 
of  all  .who  approached  him  by  the  gentleness  of  his 
manners,  his  patience  in  suffering,  his  gratitude  for 
kindness,  and,  in  brief,  by  the  honorable  sentiments  of 
an  educated  soldier.  In  a  few  weeks  his  health  was 
so  far  restored  that  he  might  be  removed  with  safety, 
and  a  special  exchange  having  been  arranged  for  hira 


162  ROEBUCK. 

through  the  interest  of  friends,  he  left  Roebuck  for  the 
North.  His  departure  was  sincerely  regi'etted  by  the 
friends  he  had  made  there,  and  he  expressed  the 
■u^armest  gratitude  for  all  their  kindness.  Taking 
leave  of  him  for  a  itime,  vre  return  to  his  compatriot, 
Campbell. 

Although  they  found  the  manners  and  sentiments 
of  that  guest  by  no  means  agreeable,  yet  Colonel » 
Fairfax  and  his  family,  studious  of  hospitality,  endea- 
vored in  every  way  to  promote  his  comfoit  and  plea- 
sure. The  colonel  placed  a  horse  at  his  disposal  to* 
ride  at  will  over  the  plantation  and  through  the 
neighborhood.  The  host  would  have  deemed  it 
miworthy  of  himself  to  watch  his  movements  or  to 
suspect  him  of  any  baseness  while  his  ht)nor  as  a 
guest  and  as  a  prisoner  on  parole  was  pledged.  The 
doctor,  whose  leg  confined  him  to  the  house,  played 
chess  with  him  or  indulged  him  with  plenty  of  the 
talk  which  he  loved.  The  war  was,  naturally,  the 
most  frequent  theme  of  their  conversation,  for  the  sen- 
timent of  delicacy  which  excluded  it  from  the  conver- 
sations between  Captain  Tremaine  and  the  family,  did 
not  restrain  Bombyx,  especially  when  he  was  alone 
with  Doctor  Dick.  At  first  he  was  much  embarrassed 
in  the  society  of  Roebuck.  His  assurance  was 
abashed  by  the  quiet,  unassuming  manners  of  gentle- 
men and  ladies,  who,  in  the  familiarity  of  domestic  life, 
practiced  the  refined  gentleness  to  which  they  hacT 
been  born.  As  he  dared  not  afi*ect  superiority  after 
his  manner,  he  would  have  fallen  into  servility  after 
his  nature,  if  he  had  not  been  made  to  feel  that  the 
social  law  of  the  place  was  one  of  equality  at  a  high 
level  and  that  it  was  equally  a  transgi-ession  to  cringe 
and  to  hector.   He  suspected  that  there  was  an  odious 


ROEBUCK.  1G3 

.air  of  aristocracy  about  Roebuck,  but  he  missed  the 
haugh.ty  arrogance  which,  in  his  fancy,  was  associated 
with  tlie  aristocracy  of  the  South.  When  a  few  days 
liad  rendered  liini  more  fjimiliar  with  the  usages  of 
the  place  he  began  to  despise,  as  a  weakness,  the 
unobtnisive  gentleness  which  he  could  never  compre- 
hend. 

*'  Check !"  cried  the  doctor,  one  day,  "  check- 
mate I" 

"  Yes,"  Campbell  admitted,  "  I  believe  Johny  Reb 
has  the  Yank  this  time." 

"  So  may  it  ever  be,"  replied  Doctor  Dick,  laugh- 
ing. 

"  Kow,  doctor,  let  us  talk  seriously  about  that  a 
little  while.  I  see  a  great  many  good  servants  here — 
faithful,  stout,  good-humored  fellows — don't  you  think 
it  would  be  better  to  set  them  all  free?" 

"  And  turn  the  best  of  servants  into  the  worst  of 
freemen  V 

"  O,  give  them  time — they  will  improve  after  they 
are  free." 

''  The  world  has  waited  several  thousand  years  for 
the  negro  race  to  originate  an  idea.  If  we  are  to  wait 
for  their  brains  to  bloom  we  may  wait  until  the  crack 
of  doom,  or  until  Yankees  become  honest." 

"Doctor,  you  are  a  bundle  of  prejudices." 

"  Very  likely.  Prejudices  are  the  ribs  of  char- 
acter." 

"  You  know  we  don  t  intend  to  injure  the  South." 

"  You  would  not  injure  the  watch  though  you  would 
crush  the  works !" 

"  But  if  we  should  emancipate  the  negroes  we 
would  certainly  confer  a  benefit  on  both  races — let  me 
convince  you  of  that." 


164  ROEBUCK. 

"  Answer  Mr.  Campbell,  Caleb,"  said  tbe  doctor,  to 
his  favorite  servant,  who  stood  with  a  napkin  on  his 
arm,  waiting  for  orders.  Being  commanded  to  speak, 
he  made  a  profound  bow  to  the  guest  and  began : 

"  If  I  am  allowed  to  suppress  my  cogitation  on  this 
memorable  occasion,  human  nature  teaches  me  that 
white  folks  that  I  have,  never  seen  would  not  come  a 
thousand  miles  just  to  fight  for  my  good." 

"  There  it  is,  Mr.  Campbell,"  said  the  doctor,  "  go 
on  and  plant  your  oranges  in  icebergs." 
"  But  you  would  like  to  be  free,  Caleb  ?" 
"  That's  as  might  be  according  to  the  circumnaviga- 
tion of  circumstances.  I  do  not  see  many  white  folks 
as  free  as  I  am,  no  oflenee  to  you,  master,  as  being 
cm*  prisoner.  Them  other  free  niggers,  as  I  repre- 
hend by  my  cu'curalocution,  they  are  lazy  beggars  and 
thieves.  They  are  the  contemptible,  black  coffee- 
grounds  of  society  left  after  the  second  b'iling." 

"  That  will  do  Caleb ;  Mr.  Campbell  has  your 
opinion." 

"  Well,  doctor,  however  we  may  differ  about  slaveiy, 
it  is  astonishing  that  you  Southerners  make  war 
agai«st  so  good  a  government  as  ours." 

"  We  make  war  !     The   South  attempted  peacable 
secession — the  North  attempted  to  prevent  secession 
by  force.     The  North  made  war." 
"  But  no  State  has  a  right  to  secede." 
*'  Then  the  Federal  government  is  absolute." 
"  Oh,  no,  doctor,  it  is  a  free  government." 
**  Under  a  free  government  the  rights  of  all  should 
be  protected  with  even-handed  justice.     Protection 
should  be  meted  to  all  in  equal  measure  and  with  the 
quality  of  manna — he  that  gathered  mucli  had  nothing 
over,  and  he  that  gathered  little  had  no  lack.     The 


ROEBUCK.  1G5 

Fcdcrnl  government  enriches  the  Korth  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  South,  and  whan  we  would  escape  from 
lei^alized  rapacity,  we  are  told  that  wo  are  bound  for- 
ever. When  the  forms  of  law  to  which  we  assented 
cannot  hold  us,  the  sword  is  illegally  drawn  to  subju- 
gate our  States.  Is  this  a  free  government  for  us? 
But  I  did  not  intend  to  be  drawn  into  an  angry  discus- 
sion. It  can  do  no  good.  It  is  better  to  laugh  aside 
subjects  that  irritate  when  we  cannot  be  convinced." 

'''No,  no,  doctor,  I  am  not  angry.  I  am  sure  I  can 
convince  you  if  you  give  me  time.  Think  of  the 
greatness  of  the  government  you  are  giving  up.  If 
we  remain  united  we  can  defy  the  world." 

"  If  you  worship  power,  you  should  offer  your  in- 
cense to  the  Prince  of  Darkness.  His  dominion  is 
not  confined  to  the  United  States." 

''  Well,  doctor,  if  you  won't  discuss  the  matter  se- 
riously, you  must  not  think  hard  of  us  for  preserving 
the  life  of  the  nation  at  all  hazards." 

"  Which  nation— North  or  South  ?  You  would  take 
the  life  of  the  South,  in  order  that  the  North  may  live 

at  ease." 

"  One  nation,  embracing  North  and  South,  East  and 

•^est a  great,  free,  enlightened  nation.     We  must 

preserve  it^'s  life.  We  regret  the  desolation  which  the 
war  must  bring  upon  the  South,  but  we  owe  a  duty 
to  posterity  and  to  mankind.  W^e  must  preserve  the 
life  of  the  nation.  We  are  resolved  to  preserve  it 
with  our  blood." 

"  I  thought  so  at  Manassa — in  the  morning.  It  was 
not  so  clear  at  night." 

"  We  failed  once.  But  we  shall  succeed  in  the  end. 
A  just  cause  must  succeed." 

*•  You  have  a  surer  ground  for  confidence,  perhaps, 
than  the  justice  of  your  cause.     I  wish  you  had  not." 


160  ROEBUCK. 

"What  is  that,  pray?" 

"Tlie  fact  that  tlie  just  cause  is  seldom  successful  in 
war.  The  Reverend  Mr.  Ambler  thinks  this  is  be- 
cause Providence  would  admonish  good  men  to  avoid 
war  by  teaching  them  that  if  a  righteous  cause  cannot 
be  upheld  by  reason,  it  cannot  be  enforced  with  the 
sword.  I  only  see  that,  as  a  rule,  the  big  dog  whips 
the  little  one,  and  that  dogs  are  usually  insolent  and 
unjust  in  proportion  to  their  size." 

"  Do  you  not  believe  that  Providence  awards  vic- 
tory in  accordance  with  justice  ?" 

"Kyd,  the  pirate,  had  victories.  England  con- 
quered India.  TVe  have  exterminated  the  American 
Indians.  Victors  have  dined  on  minced  missionary. 
Brutus  died  for  liberty,  and  Cesar  had  the  empire. 
Kapoleon  was  the  genius  of  victoiy — was  he  a  man 
aft«r  God's  own  heart?  Did  Providence  change 
sides  at  Waterloo  ?     We  must  not  turn  Pagans." 

''  At  all  events,  you  will  see  the  amazing  energy  of 
our  government  displayed  in  suppressing  the  re- 
bellion." 

"  A  government,  in  caasing  to  be  five,  may  display 
terrific  energy,  like  a  steam-boiler  in  exploding." 

"  But  our  government  does  not  cease  to  be  free." 

"  Has  not  the  habeas  corpus  been  suspended  by  a 
Presidential  edict — the  chief  justice  flouted  by  a  mili- 
tary ofiicer — newspapers  suppressed — legislatures  bro- 
ken up — citizens  imprisoned — laws  defied?  Youi 
government  cannot  subjugate  the  South  without  first 
enslaving  the  North." 

"  We  shall  return  to  the  bulwarks  of  liberty  aftei 
suppressing  the  rebellion." 

''^ Nulla  vestigia  retrorsum.'' 

*'  Let  us  have  another  game  of  chess,  doctor." 


ROEBUCK.  1G7 

Mr.  Campbell  was  not  satisfied  that  the  lumuious 
opniiou  delivered  by  Caleb  correctly  represented  pub- 
lic scutiment  in  the  African  branch  of  Southern  so- 
ciety. His  professional  curiosity  pricked  him  to  pry 
into  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  the  slaves.  He 
deemed  it  his  duty  also  to  enlighten  them  on  the  great 
question  of  their  own  destiny,  if  he  found  them  be- 
nighted like  .Caleb.  His  philanthropy  was  as  med- 
dlesome and  egotistical  as  his  civi'iosity.  Being 
troubled  with  no  scruples  of  honesty  or  honor,  and 
having  set  up  a  Deity  in  his  own  image,  he  persuaded 
himself  that  he  would  be  doing  God  service  in  sowing 
dissension  between  his  host  and  his  servants  by  ex- 
citing delusive  aspirations  in  the  minds  of  the  credu- 
lous negroes.  Before  he  had  been  long  at  Roebuck 
he  conceived  the  ambitious  and  atrocious  design  of 
serving  the  Northern  cause  by  fomenting  a  servile  in- 
surrection. Under  the  influence  of  those  motives  he 
sought  opportunities  to  converse  with  the  slaves  at 
lioebuck  and  on  other  estates.  As  he  rode  about 
at  his  pleasure,  ho  found  such  opportunities  without 
difficulty.  Being  conscious,  however,  of  an  ilUcit  and 
odious  purpose,  he  avoided  observation,  and  gave  to 
his  intercourse  with  the  servants  a  clawdestine  charac- 
ter. He  supposed  it  was  quite  unknown  to  the  per- 
sons whose  hospitality  he  enjoyed.  His  interviews 
with  some  of  the  negroes  who  have  become  known  to 
tlie  reader  may  be  briefly  described. 

He  found  old  Valentine  sunning  himself  one  morn- 
ing before  his  cabin,  and  after  some  questions  about 
his  health,  age  and  recollections,  inquired  if  the  old 
man  knew  that  the  negroes  would  all  soon  be  set 
free. 

"Den   God    help    us,  poor    uiggers,"    ejaculated 


168  ROEBUCK. 

Valentine.  "  What  will  beconie  of  us  if  we  lose  our 
masters?  AVho  will  take  keer  of  old  fellers  like 
me  V 

*'  But  your  children  and  grandchildren — ^think  of 
their  good." 

"Dey's  mighty  well  off,  master.  We's  all  niggers, 
and  we  wants  white  folks  to  take  keer  of  us.  We 
ain't  got  no  sense  to  take  care  of  om-selves.  God  help 
us  if  dey  sets  us  free." 

Mr.  Campbell  passed  on,  attributing  these  craven 
and  servile  sentiments  to  senility  which  he  could  not 
enlighten.  Again,  he  was  riding  past  a  shop  in  which 
a  likely  young  fellow  was  at  vrork. 

'•  How  are  you,  my  man,"  he  said,  ''  what  is  your 
name?" 

"  Bob,  sir ;  dey  calls  me  carpenter  Bob,  for  short.'* 

"  What  pay  do  you  get,  Robert,  for  the  Avork  you 
are  doing?" 

"  Pay,  master  ?     I  belongs  to  Colonel  Fred." 

"  Does  he  pay  you  nothing  for  your  work  ?" 

"  V/hat  for  would  he  pay  me  when  I  belongs  to 
him?" 

'•  He  ought  to  pay  you,  I  think." 

"Y/hat  make?" 

*'  Because  no  man  ought  to  labor  for  nothing." 

"  I  don't  v/ork  for  nothin'.  I  gits  as  much  as  I 
wants  off  n  dis  big  plantation.  I  don't  pay  master 
nothin'  for  tendin'  to  it." 

"  If  you  were  free  you  could  go  North,  and  get 
good  wages  as  a  mechanic." 

"  Would  1  have  a  big  plantation,  like  dis  one,  to 
live  on  ?" 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  you  don't  own  this  one." 

"  It  sarves  me  mighty  well.  I  ain't  agwiu©  to  leave 
it,  sai'tiu  sure,  sir." 


ROEBUCK.  169 

When  Campbell  fell  in  with  Joe,  he  thought  that 
head-man  more  intelligent  than  Bob,  until  he  touched 
his  favorite  theme.  Joe  denounced  the  idea  of  sepa- 
rating himself  from  his  master  as  basely  disloyal. 

"  Why,"  he  said,  "  my  folks  has  belonged  to  de 
Fairfaxes  since  de  very  first  man.  We's  all  Fair- 
faxes. We's  always  been  Fairfaxes.  We's  always 
agwine  to  be  Fairfaxes.  What  would  Master  Fred 
do  widout  Joe '?  I  toated  him  and  played  wid  him 
when  he  was  a  boy.  I  was  wid  him  when  he  was  at 
de  University.  I  went  a  courtin'  wid  him.  I's  bin 
his  'pendence  all  his  life.  My  children's  bin  wid  his 
children.  We's  jis  like  brothers,  only  he's  white  and 
I's  black ;  and  he's  master  and  I's  sarvant,  dat's  all 
de  difference  'twixt  Master  Fred  and  old  Joe." 

"  Well,  Joe,  I  was  only  trying  you.  I  see  you  are 
faithful.  You  need  not  say  anything  about  this  con- 
versation." 

"  No,  master,  only  to  Master  Fred.  We  tells  ono 
another  everything." 

Campbell  encountered  Juba  dodging  about,  and 
found  that  this  broad-shouldered,  bullet-headed,  bel- 
ligerent brother,  by  dint  of  meditation  in  the  woods, 
had  solved  the  question  of  the  negro's  destiny  in  a 
different  fashion.  He  listened  to  a  long  harangue  of 
Campbell  in  silence,  fixing  his  eyes  upon  a  fence-post 
with  that  look  of  profound  imbecility  and  unobservant 
attention  which  none  but  a  negro  can  give,  and  then, 
without  shifting  the  conspicuous  whites  of  his  eyes,  he 
propounded  his  conclusion : 

"  It  seems  to  me  as  ef  dis  was  a  white  man's  fight 
over  de  nigger.  All  de  nigger  is  got  to  do  wid  it  is 
to  lay  in  de  bush  till  de  white  folks  is  done  fou't  it 
out.     Den,  which  whips,  de  nigger  he  comes  out'u  de 

8 


170  ROEBUCK. 

bush  and  takes  his  sheer.  Ef  dc  Rebels  whips,  den  we 
gits  our  corn  and  bacon,  jis  so.  Ef  de  Yankees  whips, 
den  dey  gives  de  land  to  de  niggers,  and  de  nigger 
what  stays  here,  he  gits  de  first  slice.     I  stays  here." 

Campbell  found  by  his  African  explorations,  that 
either  from  affection  or  apathy  or  stupidity  or  tim- 
idity, or  from  obscm-e  motives  which  they  could  not 
explain,  the  negroes  generally  were  at  that  time  in- 
clined to  remain  with  their  owners,  or,  at  least,  were 
not  inclined  to  make  any  adventurous  effort  to  change 
their  condition.  In  a  few  cases,  however,  the  teach- 
ing of  the  philanthropist  took  root  in  the  minds  of  the 
slaves  and  bore  fiTiit  after  the  kind,  not  precisely  of 
the  doctrine  but  of  the  negro.  "When  Campbell  had 
been  for  some  time  delving  in  this  mine  of  black  dia- 
monds, his  work  was  suddenly  interrupted.  Colonel 
Faii'fax  had,  of  couise,  become  aware  of  his  frequent 
interviews  with  his  own  slaves  and  others,  but  attri- 
buted them  to  the  natural  curiosity  of  a  stranger  or 
the  professional  curiosity  of  Bombyx.  He  did  not 
suspect  him  of  abusing  the  privileges  of  hospitality  for 
unworthy  purposes.  He  casually  remarked  to  his 
guest^ — "  I  see,  Mr.  Campbell,  you  have  been  amusing 
yourself  with  talking  to  the  servants  on  the  planta- 
tion." 

"  Never,  colonel — you  must  not  believe  the  tales  of 
the  negroes." 

"  What !"  exclaimed  the  colonel,  with  surprise, 
"  do  I  understand  you  to  deny  that  you  have  con- 
versed with  the  negroes." 

"  Never,  except  with  the  servants  who  came  to  our 
chamber." 

"  Mr.  Campbell,  I  was  not  complaining  of  your  con- 
duct. I  said  nothing  about  tales  of  the  negroes.  But 
you  surprise  me." 


ROEBUCK.  171 

"Do  you  susi:>ect  me  of  falsehood,  Colonel  Fair- 
fax r' 

"  I  suspect  nothing,  Mr.  Campbell.  I  know."  The 
coloncVs  manner  expressed  his  scorn  of  falsehood. 

"  Since  I  find  myself  an  object  of  suspicion  under 
your  roof,  sir,  I  had  better  relieve  your  house  of  my 
presence." 

"  You  will  use  your  own  pleasure,  sir." 

Mr.  Campbell,  without  unnecessary  delay,  took  up 
his  quarters  at  the  Swan  tavern.  The  change  had 
become  desirable  to  him,  for  it  relieved  him  of  some 
obstacles  to  the  prosecution  of  his  main  design.  He 
had  been  mshing  to  escape  from  the  restraints  of 
Roebuck,  when  the  accidental  altercation  with  Colonel 
Faii-fiix,  and  that  gentleman's  indignation  at  his  false- 
hood, opened  the  door. 


172  KOEBUCK. 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

CONSPIRACIES. 

A  FEW  days  after  Campbell  established  himself  at 
the  Swan  tavern  a  rumor  began  to  be  whisj^ered 
through  the  neighborhood  that  the  negroes  were  plot- 
tiuc:  an  insuiTection.  It  was  vasrue  and  without  a 
known  origin.  It  gathered  circumstances  as  it  flcAV, 
and  suspicion  supplied  the  defects  of  testimony. 
Until  then  the  slaves,  where  the  invasion  had  not  pen- 
etrated, were  quiet,  submissive,  and  remarkably  atten- 
tive to  their  duties.  Few  attempted  to  escape,  and 
none  to  rebel.  The  war,  and  the  general  arming  of 
the  dominant  race  impressed  them  with  awe.  But 
experience  had  not  yet  proved  what  effect  upon  their 
inllammable  passions  might  be  produced  by  the  progress 
of  a  vast  conflict,  waged,  as  they  understood,  by  the 
North  for  their  deliverance.  While  it  was  beiieved 
rtiat  •^ei'vile  insurrection  was  one  of  the  agencies  by 
which  the  North  expected  to  subjugate  the  South,  a 
rumor  of  commotion  among  the  slaves  might  readily 
cause  anxiety.  It  was  soon  reported  that  there 
had  been  midnight  meetings  of  negroes — that  there 
had  been  secret  intercourse  between  Campbell,  Palmer 
and  blind  Pete — that  Pete  Avas  more  active  than  ever 
in  his  clandestine  deaUngs  with  slaves  by  night.  Sus- 
picion fell  upon  Campbell  because  he  was  a  "  Yankee  j' 
it  was  promoted  by  a  circumstantial  story  of  his  dis- 
missal from  Roebuck  because  he  had  tampered  with 
servants ;  it  was  confirmed  by  exaggerated  accounts 


ROEBUCK.  173 

told  by  some  of  tlio  negroes  of  his  conversations  with 
them.  Palmer's  nativity,  reserved  habits  and  equivo- 
cal eonduct  had  lost  him  the  confidence  of  his  neigh- 
bors, and  his  position  was  fm'ther  compromised  by  a 
report  that  his  son  had  deserted  and  gone  over  to  the 
enemy.  These  various  rumors  and  suspicions  pro- 
duced uneasiness,  which  rapidly  swelled  into  popular 
agitation. 

In  fact,  the  ingenuity  of  Mr.  Palmer  was  constantly 
exercised  by  his  plans  for  making  the  war  subservient 
to  his  interest  and  revenge,  and  by  the  embarrass- 
ments which  must  beset  a  secret  adherent  of  the 
North,  who,  in  a  Southern  community,  ostensibly 
though  fointly  supported  the  Southern  cause.  When 
blind  Pete  visited  him,  as  well  in  pursuance  of  his 
own  invitation  as  of  the  stipulution  exacted  by  Baxter 
at  a  rope's  end,  a  negotiation  took  place  in  which  the 
trained  intelligence  of  the  retired  merchant  outwitted 
the  purblind  cunning  of  the  vulgar  knave.  Pete  was 
led  to  reveal,  not  only  the  whole  transaction  of  the 
Bugar-tongs,  but  the  apprehension  which  he  felt  that 
the  Northern  stranger  would  be  less  indulgent  than 
the  good-natured  Southerners,  who  so  often  winked 
at  his  pilfering  in  compassion  for  his  blindness.  By 
playing  upon  this  fear  and  by  a  liberal  bribe,  Palmer 
enlisted  Pete  in  his  secret  service.  He  thus  established 
an  espionage  upon  the  families  of  his  neighbors  and  an 
agency  which  might  be  turned  to  account  in  the  pro- 
secution of  schemes  yet  unhatched.  Through  this 
channel  he  was  informed  of  Campbell's  position  at 
Roebuck  and  was  enabled  to  estimate  his  character. 
He  wished  to  open  communication  with  him,  but  was 
too  cautious  to  attempt  it  until  the  guest  had  removed 
from  Roebuck  to  the  tavern.     Soon  after  that  event 


174  ROEBUCK. 

he  commissioned  Pete  to  convey  a  private  intimation 
to  Campbell  that  Mi*.  Palmer  desired  to  consult  him 
confidentially,  and  would  be  pleased  to  receive  a  visit 
from  him  at  his  own  house  by  night.  The  invitation 
was  accepted,  and  thus  at  a  late  hour  one  night  those 
two  natives  of  the  North  were  sitting  in  Mr.  Palmer's 
parlor,  with  the  doors  locked  and  the  wind«3w-shut- 
ters  closed. 

"  I  have  now  intrusted  you,"  Mr.  Palmer  was  say- 
ing, "  with  a  candid  exposition  of  my  real  sentiments 
respecting  the  rebellion,  and  of  the  urgent  reasons  for 
disguising  them  at  present.  May  I  rely  upon  your 
friendship  to  make  this  explanation  in  the  proper 
quarters  when  you  return  to  the  North  ?  I  hope  my 
conduct  and  motives  will  be  kindly  appreciated  there. 
If  the  forces  of  the  Union  should  hereafter  reach  this 
part  of  Vu'ginia,  as  of  course  they  will,  it  may  be  de- 
sirable that  the  commander  shall  be  informed  of  my 
views,  but  you  will  perceive  that,  for  the  benefit  «f 
our  cause,  it  may  even  then  be  prudent  for  him  to  re*- 
tain  the  knowledge  in  his  own  breast." 

'•  I  understand  you,  I  believe,"  responded  Campbell, 
drily. 

"  Then  there  is  a  report  cm-rent  that  my  son  Albert, 
who  was  a  quarter-master  in  the  State  service  for  a 
short  time,  has  resigned  his  oflSce,  and  visited  the 
Union  lines.  You  may  meet  him  at  the  North,  and, 
I  believe,  you  will  find  that  he  is  as  loyal  as  I  am. 
Possibly  he  will  desire  to  enter  the  Federal  service. 
If  you  can  promote  his  plans  in  any  way,  you  will 
oblige  me  by  doing  so,  and  will  render  service,  no 
doubt,  to  the  cause." 

"  I  understand  you." 

"  Then  may  I  count  upon  your  friendly  offices  V* 


ROEBUCK.  175 

"That  question,  Mr.  Palmer,  must  be  answered 
with  solemn  reference  to  my  paramount  duty  as  a 
loyal  citizen  of  the  United  States.  When  you  solicit 
the  favor  of  our  benign  government  it  appears  to  me 
that  you  may  reasonably  be  required  to  give  some 
tangible  proof  of  your  loyalty.  This  is  a  most  wicked 
rebellion,  and  neutrality  is  a  great  oflfence." 

"  What  can  I  do  here  and  now  for  the  Union  1" 

"  Much.  You  have  a  glorious  field  for  usefulness 
in  yom-  situation.  The  confidence  reposed  in  you  by 
your  rebel  neighbors,  under  the  belief  that  you  sympa- 
thize with  them,  will  enable  you  to  operate  efiect- 
ively,  secretly  and  safely.  You  have  a  glorious  op- 
portunity." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"  There  is  in  the  South  a  population  of  four  mil- 
lions who  should  be  loyal  supporters  of  the  Union 
cause.  They  requu'e  only  to  be  stimulated  and 
guided-  Why  are  they  not  summoned  to  the  aid  of 
those  arms  which  are  to  strike  from  their  limbs  the 
manacles  of  bondage?  They  are  within  the  rebel 
camp.  They  sleep  in  the  citadel.  They  could  grasp 
the  keys.  They  can  disband  Southern  armies,  by  de- 
stroying Southern  homes.  If  they  have  not  guns, 
there  is  the  knife  and  the  torch.  Many  of  them  are 
around  you.     With  them  you  can  serve  the  Union." 

'-  Would  you  resort  to  servile  insurrection — to  uni- 
versal massacre — to  the  assassination  of  families — to 
tlie  violation  of  women — to  the  murder  of  innocent 
children — to" 

"  Enough,  Mr.  Palmer.  In  a  word,  all  means  are 
lawful  to  suppress  this  unprovoked,  this  wicked,  this 
atrocious  rebellion  against  the  best  government  the 
world  ever  saw.    It  is  a  rebellion  of  slave-holders.    It 


176  ROEBUCK. 

is  fit  that  we  cry  havoc,  and  let  slip  the  slaves.  If 
they  are  savage,  let  those  who  have  made  them  savage 
by  oppression  pay  the  penalty." 

"  Mr.  Campbell,  you  chill  my  blood  with  horror." 

"  Then,  sir,  your  loyalty  is  hypocrisy." 

"  Why,  the  Federal  government  has  solemnly  de- 
clared that  the  war  is  not  waged  to  interfere  with  tlie 
institution  of  slavery." 

'•'Politic  words!  Words!  The  government  ad- 
vances before  the  swelling  breeze  of  popular  feeling. 
Hostihty  to  slavery  is  the  master  passion  of  the 
Northern  heart.  This  was  the  prime  cause  of  the  war. 
By  inexorable  logic  the  abolition  of  slavery  must  be  a 
consequence  of  the  war.  The  government  must  in- 
tend the  necessaiy  result  of  its  own  action.  They  are 
blind  who  do  not  foresee  the  end.  The  North  sees 
it  and  therefore  sustains  the  war.  Press  and  pulpit, 
by  turns  masters  or  slaves  of  opinion,  are  fimously 
hostile  to  slavery  and  slave-holders.  A  servile  insur- 
rection would  be  hailed  there  with  more  enthusiasm 
than  ever  was  the  name  of  John  Brown.  Be  not  de- 
luded by  politic  professions  of  the  government.  Chiefs 
of  administration  are  known  to  believe  that  the  name 
of  John  Brown  has  become  historical  as  a  martyr  in 
the  cause  of  human  nature.  Whoever  most  resem- 
bles him  is  most  faithful  to  the  instincts  of  this  war." 

''  Old  John  Brown !  It  cannot  be  true  that  a 
Christian  government  approves  his  desperate  charac- 
ter and  diabolical  design." 

"  All  good  Christians  at  the  North  revere  him  as  a 
martyr." 

"But  he  was  hung,"  said  Palmer,  not  pleased  with 
the  precedent. 

"  What,  then  t     He  is  canonized.     If  you  would  ba 


ROEBUCK.  177 

a  saint,  be  a  man.  Defy  the  slave  power.  Stir  up 
the  slaves.     Recognize  your  mission." 

"You  are  mistaken  in  your  estimate  of  the  negi'oes. 
We  who  have  lived  long  among  them  know  them 
better.  They  are  inert  and  cowardly.  The  love  of 
liberty  is  not  in  them,  as  in  the  white  race,  an  aspir- 
ing and  unconquerable  passion,  but  a  languid  love  of 
case.     They  failed  John  Brown." 

"But  then  they  were  not  encouraged  by  a  power- 
ful government  and  an  invincible  army." 

"  Perhaps  the  recent  event  at  Manassa  may  not  en- 
courage them." 

"Mr.  Palmer,  are  you  loyal  or  disloyal  to  the 
Union?" 

"  Loyal,  Mr.  Campbell,  loyal  to  the  core.  I  have 
humbly  ventured  to  suggest  difficulties  which  oc- 
curred to  my  mind.  But  if  there  is  really  anything 
that  I  can  do  for  the  Union  cause,  I  am  ready  to  do 
it." 

"  On  no  other  condition  will  I  consent  to  represent 
you  as  a  loyal  citizen,  or  to  interest  myself  in  the  for- 
tunes of  your  son." 

Pressed  by  such  considerations,  Palmer  finally  con- 
sented to  lend  himself  to  a  scheme  which  he  believed 
to  be  dangerous  to  himself,  impracticable  and  atro- 
cious. He  compromised  with  his  conscience  and  his 
prudence  by  resolving  that  he  would  do  no  more  than 
might  be  absolutely  necessary  to  satisfy  Campbell, 
and  by  assuring  himself  that  the  project  could  have 
no  important  result.  He  promised  to  ascertain  the 
temper  of  the  negroes,  and  report  to  Campbell.  That 
gentleman,  returning  to  his  room  in  the  tavern,  rumi- 
nated coming  events  which  would  immortalize  his 
name,  and  furnish  material  for  several  telling  letters 

8* 


178  ROEBUCK. 

to  the  "  Comet."  Already  his  brain  began  to  flame 
Avith  the  composition  of  amazing  paragraphs,  and  daz- 
zling rows  of  capitals  danced  before  his  mind's  eye, 
like  rustling  banners  of  triumph. 

Mr.  Palmer  sought  an  early  opportunity  to  signify 
to  blind  Pete,  with  cautious  circumlocution,  that  he 
desired  to  learn  w^hether  -any  of  the  slaves  were 
ambitious  to  become  free,  and  what  exertions  they 
were  inclined  to  make,  or  what  risks  they  were  pre- 
pared to  run  for  that  object.  He  wished  to  leave  that 
blind  rogue  in  doubt  whether  the  inquiry  was  intended 
in  the  interest  of  the  North  or  of  the  South — of  slave- 
holders or  of  abolitionists.  But  Pete  was  astute 
enough  to  resolve  that  doubt  by  laying  together 
various  circumstances  which  had  come  to  his  know- 
ledge. He  insinuated  his  conviction  of  the  truth,  and 
declared  that  the  service  in  which  Mr.  Palmer  pro- 
posed to  employ  him  would  be  attended  with  extreme 
danger  to  himself  By  insisting  upon  his  real  or 
aftected  fear,  he  extorted  a  larger  bribe  than  he  had 
ever  before  ventured  to  demand.  As  Mr.  Palmer  was 
also  called  upon  to  supply  the  necessities  of  Mr.  Camp- 
bell, his  purse  was  now  subject  to  a  double  drain  in 
consequence  of  his  loyalty.  Moreover  he  was  kept  in 
an  agony  of  apprehension.  He  had  little  confidence 
in  the  negroes,  and  less  in  Pete.  He  dreaded  every 
moment  that  his  perilous  plot  might  explode  to  his 
own  ruin. 

He  had  sold  all  his  slaves  except  two  men  and  the 
wife  and  children  of  one  of  them.  This  one  was  a 
dull,  stupid  fellow,  named  Gabe,  who  was  retained 
because  his  master  was  obliged  to  keep  at  least  one 
man-servant,  and  thought  this  doltish  creatm-e  would 
not  run   away.     The  other  man,  whose  name  was 


ROEBUCK.  179 

Mike,  was  a  shrewd,  restless,  unmanageable  negro. 
lie  had  been  "in  the  bash'*  for  several  months. 
During  his  absence  his  family  had  been  sold  and  sent 
Southward.  He  resented  this  transaction,  as  well  as 
the  sharp  discipline  to  which  he  had  submitted  before 
he  took  to  the  woods.  He  expected,  if  he  should  be 
caught,  to  be  sold  also  and  sent  to  the  Cotton  States. 
To  avoid  this  fate,  Mike  conceived  a  plan  of  escaping 
into  the  Federal  lines  with  such  of  the  neighboring 
negroes  as  he  could  induce  to  join  him.  With  their 
aid  he  desired,  before  leaving  the  country,  to  procure 
money,  and,  perhaps,  to  gratify  his  resentment.  He 
was  hatching  this  project  while  his  master  was  med- 
dling with  a  more  atrocious  plot.  Mike  was  tam- 
pering with  blind  Pete  to  further  his  own  scheme, 
while  Pete  was  tampering  with  him  in  pursuance  of 
his  engagement  with  Mr.  Palmer.  Mike  sought  an 
interview  with  Campbell,  and  affecting  to  adopt  his 
views,  obtained  such  information  and  assistance  as  he 
thought  necessary  to  his  own  plan.  He  was  quite  too 
shrewd  to  believe  in  the  success  of  a  servile  insurrec- 
tion. He  and  two  or  three  other  negroes  who  were 
conspiring  with  him  or  with  Pete  or  with  Campbell — 
they  scarcely  knew  with  whom  or  for  what — obtained 
some  fire-arms  through  Pete's  illicit  traffic.  They 
had  an  old  musket,  two  shot-guns,  with  broken  locks, 
and  a  pistol.  Mike  supposed  that  these  weapons 
might  be  useful  in  perpetrating  a  robbery  or  in  taking 
vengeance  on  an  obnoxious  master,  or  in  defending 
the  fugitives  on  their  route  of  escape. 

The  black  chiefs  of  the  conspiracy  held  a  council. 
They  sat  in  an  old  tobacco-barn,  near  the  edge  of  a 
wood,  remote  from  any  habitation.  The  time  was 
midnight,  and  the  moon  had  just  risen.     The  barn 


180  ROEBUCK. 

had  long  been  disused  and  had  fallen  into  decay.  It 
was  built  of  round  logs  with  the  bark  on  them.  The 
roof  was  of  elap-boards.  The  bark  was  hanging  in 
black  flakes  from  the  logs,  and  the  roof  was  all  gone, ' 
excei)t  a  few  of  the  rafters  which  sprawled  hke  spiders' 
legs  in  the  moonlight  overhead.  The  door  had 
been  carried  away,  and  the  frame  in  which  it  had 
stood,  being  rotten,  ceased  to  uphold  the  ends  of  the 
logs,  and  these,  swaying  downward,  left  a  wide,  rag- 
ged hole  in  the  side  of  the  barn.  The  assemblage 
Avithin,  mottled  with  patches  of  moonlight  and  of 
shadow,  numbered  four  persons.  They  w^ere  squatted 
upon  the  ground.  Mike  presided  on  a  flat  stone. 
The  other  three  were  two  slaves  of  Mr.  Eckles,  named 
Jake  and  Cato,  and  a  slave  of  Mrs.  Fitzhugh,  called 
Hannibal.  Jake  and  Cato  had  been,  like  Mike,  for 
some  time  in  the  bush.  Cato  was  a  timid,  crouching 
fellow,  but  Jake  w^as  a  stout,  fierce,  savage-looking 
negro,  with  the  marks  of  severe  treatment  on  his  per- 
son. Hannibal  had  been  corrupted  by  the  laxity  of 
discipline  at  Willow^bank,  under  the  administration  of 
a  woman,  and  roaming  about  in  idleness,  he  had  fallen 
in  with  the  other  sable  conspirators. 

"  Now,  boys,"  said  President  Mike,  "  we's  a  gwine 
to  hold  a  council  to  see  what  we's  a  gwine  to  do. 
What  you  all  gwine  to  do  now  V* 

"  I's  a  gwine  to  stop  in  de  bush,"  responded  Cato, 
"  'case  it's  de  nighest  to  git  somethin'  to  eat  from  de 
t'other  niggers." 

"  I  want  to  run  off  to  de  Yankees,"  said  Hannibal, 
"  'case  it's  de  fiirdest  off  to  cotch  us." 

"What's  we  done  got  dem  guns  for?'*  inquired 
Cato,  "dat's  what  I  want  to  know.  I's  afeard'of 
guns.     Dat's  what." 


ROEBUCK.  181 

"You're  a  fool,"  growled  Jake,  "  guns  is  to  shoot." 

"  Dem  guns  won't  shoot  nobody,"  pronounced  the 
president. 

"  Dey  must  shoot  somebody,"  said  Jake. 

"  Who  V  cried  all  the  others. 

"  Old  Eckles." 

"  O  Lord,"  exclaimed  Cato,  with  alanii,  "  ef  dar's 
shootin',  I's  off." 

"  I'd  shoot  everybody,"  rejoined  Jake,  "  let's  raise 
all  de  niggers." 

"  How  many  kin  you  raise  f  asked  the  president. 

"Lots." 

"  Has  you  axed  'em "?" 

"  Yes,  I  done  ax  'em." 

"  How  many  of  'em  promised  to  raise  V* 

"  Two  ;  me  and  another  feller." 

"  What  did  de  rest  of  'em  say  V 

"  I  was  afeard  to  ax  'em,  afeard  dey'll  blab.  But 
Yankee  Campbell  says  there's  lots  of 'em  ready." 

"  Yankee  Campbell  is  a  liar,"  declared  the  presi- 
dent. 

"  Dat's  jis  what  he  is,"  chimed  in  Cato  and  Hanni- 
bal. 

"  Hush!     Somebody's  a  comin',"  whispered  Cato. 

"  You's  a  coward,"  said  Mike,  "  go  to  de  door  and 
watch."  When  this  order  was  obeyed  by  the  trem- 
bling Cato,  the  president  continued :  "  Now,  Jake, 
you'l  a  fool.  You's  all  fools.  Ts  got  all  de  sense. 
You  see  de  moonshine  comin'  down  through  dem 
rafters.  Dat's  de  way  de  sense  shines  down  through 
my  head.  Ts  de  Moses  to  lead  you  all  out'n  de  house 
of  bondage.  Mind  me.  To-morrow  night  I'll  lead 
you  away  to  de  land  of  promise.  But  first  we  must 
git  some  money  and  things.     We's  a  gwine  to  Wil- 


182  ROEBUCK. 

lowbank.  Do  ole  woman  dar  lias  got  piles  of  money 
and  silver  things.     Yon  know  dat,  Hannibal." 

"  Yes ;  but  she  keeps  'era  locked  up  in  a  chis  in  her 
own  room,  and  she  sleeps  up  stairs  wid  'em  since  de 
war." 

"  Well,"  said  Mike,  "  we'll  git  into  her  room  and 
break  open  the  chis." 

"  But  you  mustn't  hurt  missus,"  cried  Hannibal. 

"  No  ;  she  shan't  be  hurt." 

*'  We'll  rob  de  chis,  but  you  mustn't  hurt  missus." 

"  Xow  mind  me,  Jake,  you  bring  Cato  and  meet  me 
at  de  Poplar  Spring  to-morrow,  jis  when  it  gits  dark. 
Hannibal,  you  go  to  Willowbank,  and  git  inside  to 
open  de  door.  We'll  be  dar  at  'leven  o'clock.  Now, 
mind  me,  I'm  Moses." 

"  A  ghose — a  ghose" — shouted  Cato,  and  took  to 
his  heels.  Jake  and  Hannibal  ran  out  of  the  barn,  and 
being  also  frightened  at  a  ghost  or  a  man,  followed 
the  sentinel.  Mike,  who  had  given  them  their  or- 
ders, and  thus  accomplished  all  that  he  designed,  did 
not  attempt  to  detain  them,  though  he  stood  his 
ground.  Presently  blind  Pete  advanced  fi*om  the 
wood,  and  a  long  consultation  took  place  between 
him  and  Mike,  of  which  it  is  necessary  to  record  only 
that  Pete  as^reed  to  be  at  a  certain  strove  near  the 
mansion  of  Willowbank,  with  his  cart,  on  the  next 
evening,  in  consideration  that  he  should  receive  a 
certain  share  of  the  spoils  ;  that  he  was  to  take  with 
him  three  pistols  and  some  saddles,  which  the  negroes 
were  to  use  in  mounting  themselves  on  stolen  horses ; 
that  he  was  to  be  accompanied  by  two  men,  who 
had  agreed  with  Mike  to  run  away,  and  that  the  spoil 
was  to  be  carried  to  a  convenient  spot  for  division, 
and  the  plate  reduced  to  a  suitable  form  for  trans- 
portation by  the  fugitives. 


ROEBUCK.  183 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

INSURRECTION. 

The  next  morning — it  was  Sunday — when  Colonel 
Fairfax  walked  out  upon  the  lawn  in  front  of  his 
house,  he  saw  a  large  number  of  his  slaves  collected 
in  clusters  about  the  grounds,  and  discovered  at  once 
that  there  was  agitation  among  them.  .  Presently  Joe 
advanced  as  then*  spokesman,  and  informed  his  mas- 
ter that  the  servants  were  in  great  alarm  on  account 
of  rumors  which  they  understood  were  afloat.  The 
rumors  were  that  the  negroes  were  plotting  insurrec- 
tion, and  that  some  of  the  white  men  had  organized 
themselves  as  a  committee  of  vigilance,  to  suppress 
the  conspiracy.  They  feared  the  violence  of  these 
men,  acting,  as  they  believed,  under  a  groundless 
panic.  The  Colonel  was  aware  that  such  panics  were 
usually  attended  with  danger  to  the  negroes.  The 
greatest  excitement  was  apt  to  inflame  the  minds  of 
those  who  owned  few  or  no  slaves.  Owners  of  many 
slaves,  living  among  them,  could  easily  bring  all  ru- 
mors of  servile  commotion  to  the  test  of  actual  obser- 
vation, and,  besides,  they  felt  bound  by  interest  and 
duty  to  protect  their  servants  against  the  efi'ects  of 
incautious  suspicion.  Others  who  had  not  the  same 
opportunity  of  knowledge,  nor  the  same  responsi- 
bility, allowed  their  imaginations  to  be  stuflTed  with 
unsifted  reports  and  horrid  alarms.  Colonel  Fairfax 
had  already  heard  some  of  the  rumors  which  were  ia 
cii'culation,  and  after  listening  to  Joe,  he  said — 


184  roebuck:. 

"  Well,  Joe,  what  do  you  think  about  this  insurrec- 
tion?" 

"  Lord,  master,  da  won't  be  no  resurrection  of  nig- 
gers, sure?" 

"  I  wish  to  talk  with  some  of  the  other  boys  about 
it." 

'•  Dey  will  be  mighty  glad,  master." 

The  colonel  went  among  them,  and  conversed  with 
many  of  them,  separately  and  together.  Being  tho- 
roughly acquainted  with  their  habits,  he  was  able  to 
glean  from  them  all  they  knew  or  believed,  and  to  de- 
termine what  was  true.  Indeed  his  servants,  having 
confidence  in  his  justice,  seldom  attempted  to  deceive 
him,  unless  it  might  be  by  that  sort  of  exaggeration 
which  a  negro  regards  as  but  a  decent  dress  of  naked 
truth.  He  became  convinced  that  there  was  no 
danger  of  an  insurrection.  He  promised  his  servants 
the  protection  which  they  desu'ed,  and  admonished 
them  to  keep  closely  to  their  work  in  day-time,  and 
to  their  cabins  at  night. 

At  the  church,  that  day,  he  heard  of  popular  excite- 
ment and  of  prepai-ations  which  threatened  violence 
to  the  negroes.  He  exerted  all  his  influence  with  the 
people  whom  he  met,  to  allay  the  excitement,  and  to 
discourage  rash  action.  When  he  returned  home, 
his  anxiety  on  the  subject  was  so  great  that,  after 
dinner,  he  rode  out  in  search  of  the  persons  who 
were  reported  to  be  engaged  in  the  lawless  organiza- 
tion for  the  suppression  of  insurrection.  He  had  not 
gone  far  from  home,  when  he  met  half  a  dozen  men 
on  horseback,  armed  ^^th  fowling-pieces  and  pistols. 
He  knew  them  to  be  ignorant  persons  of  intiammable 
tempers,  and  they  were  manifestly  under  great  ex- 
citement.    One  of  them,  who  seemed  to  be  a  ring- 


ROEBUCK,  185 

leader  was  our  acquaintance,  Bob  Faris,  who  had  not 
yet  executed  his  purpose  to  enter  the  army  and  figlit 
for  the  principles  of  free  government.  On  meeting 
Colonel  Fairf^ix  they  addressed  him  civilly,  though 
abruptly.  They  asked  what  steps  he  had  tak  en  to 
prevent  his  negroes  from  joining  in  the  projected  in- 
surrection. He  told  them  that  he  did  not  believe 
there  was  any  such  plot,  and  that,  having  no  fear  of 
his  servants,  he  had  done  nothing  but  advise  them  to 
remain  quiet  at  home,  until  the  agitation  should  sub- 
side. They  angrily  rebuked  his  negligence,  an- 
nounced themselves  as  a  volunteer  patrol  for  the  regu- 
lation of  negi'oes  and  abolitionists,  informed  him  that 
they  had  conclusive  proofs  of  a  wide-spread  con- 
spiracy, with  Yankee  leaders,  and  finally  declared 
they  were  going  to  examine  his  slaves,  and  arrest  all 
of  them  whom  they  might  find  to  be  accomplices. 
He  remonstrated,  and  reasoned  with  them  upon  the 
impropriety  of  their  conduct,  the  folly  of  their  fears, 
and  the  mischiefs  they  were  about  to  cause.  He  ad- 
vised them  to  abandon  their  lawless  organization,  and 
appeal  to  the  magistrates  in  due  form.  Their  minds 
were  too  highly  inflamed  to  listen  to  reason,  and  in 
the  face  of  such  imminent  and  hon-ible  danger  as 
they  fancied,  they  would  not  await  the  slow  operation 
of  law.  He  then  offered  to  pledge  himself  for  the 
good  behavior  of  his  servants,  and  besought  the 
])atrol  not  to  molest  his  family  and  dependents  with 
their  inquisition.  They  professed  respect  for  him 
and  his  family,  but  insisted  that  he  was  deluding  him- 
self with  misplaced  reliance  on  the  fidelity  of  his 
slaves,  and  they  felt  bound  to  proceed.  "  Then,  gen- 
tlemen," he  said,  firmly,  "  let  me  warn  you  that  you 
will  encounter  resistance.     I  will  protect  my  servants. 


196  ROEBUCK. 

I  have  arms."  He  turned  his  horse's  head  homeward, 
and  left  them.  Before  he  was  out  of  hearing,  Bob 
Faris  called  him  back,  and  informed  him  that  they  had 
consulted  together  and  concluded,  out  of  respect  for 
him,  not  to  visit  his  plantation  that  evening.  They 
Fwore,  however,  that  Palmer,  the old  abolition- 
ist, should  not  escape.  They  rode  off  toward  that 
part  of  the  county  in  which  Palmer  resided. 

Colonel  Fau-fax,  thus  apprised  that  there  was  dan- 
ger of  violence  to  that  gentleman,  sat  a  few  minutes 
considering  how  it  might  be  averted.  It  was  nearly 
dark.  He  was  reluctant  to  go  so  fai-  from  his  own 
house  as  to  Palmer's  while  the  neighborhood  was 
disturbed.  But  he  could  think  of  no  other  way  to 
prevent  a  disgraceful  if  not  fatal  scene.  As  any  de- 
lay might  defeat  his  pm*pose,  he  set  off  at  once,  rid- 
ing rapidly,  and  taking  a  by-path  which  saved  some 
distance  and  enabled  him  to  pass  the  patrol  without 
being  seen.  In  little  more  than  an  hour  he  arrived 
at  Mr.  Palmer's  house.  That  gentleman  received  him 
with  sm-prise  and  embarrassment.  He  was  not  aware 
of  the  danger  in  which  he  stood  at  that  moment,  but 
he  was  conscious  of  participation  in  a  scheme  which 
might  prove  perilous  to  his  visitor.  The  latter  pro- 
ceeded at  once  to  make  known  the  circumstances 
which  induced  his  visit,  and  expressed  the  opinion 
that  the  regulators  would  be  at  the  door  in  a  few 
minutes.  He  added  a  hope  that  he  might  be  able  to 
dissuade  them  from  violence,  but  advised  Mr.  Palmer 
to  retire  from  the  house  for  a  short  time,  offering  to 
remain  with  the  family  and  save  them  from  insult. 
But  Palmer,  whose  domestic  affections  were  strong, 
and  who  did  not  lack  courage  to  defend  his  house- 
hold, refused  to  leave  his  family.     He  told  his  wife 


ROEBUCK.  18T 

and  (laughters  of  the  danger,  and  directed  them  to  re- 
main quiet  in  their  chambers,  whatever  might  happen. 
The  colonel  avowed  his  readiness  to  assist  in  defend- 
ing the  house  and  person  of  Mr.  Palmer.  The  latter 
brought  out  his  arms — two  revolving  pistols  and  a 
double-barrelled  fowling  piece  loaded  with  buckshot. 
All  the  weapons  were  kept  loaded,  in  anticipation  of 
trouble,  which  was  constantly  apprehended  by  the 
owner  of  them.  The  hasty  preparations  for  defence 
were  scarcely  completed  when  the  tramp  of  horses 
was  heard. 

The  horsemen  quickly  dismounted  and  posted  them- 
selves in  preconcerted  order  about  the  house,  to  pre- 
vent the  escape  of  Palmer.  Paris  then  drew  hear 
the  front  door  and  knocked  at  it  for  admittance.  Mr. 
Palmer  opened  a  window  and  would  have  spoken, 
but  the  colonel  drew  him  back  and  requested  permis- 
sion to  try  his  influence  with  the  patrol.  Looking 
out  of  the  window,  he  said — 

"  Paris,  what  do  you  want  f 

"  Heavens  1"  exclaimed  Paris,  "  Colonel  Fred's  here 
too." 

"  Yes,  I  am  here  before  you,  and  I  am  still  deter- 
mined to  prevent  you  from  disgracing  yourselves  by 
lawless  violence.    Now  tell  me  what  you  intend  to  do  f 

"  We  want  the  old  abolitionist,  and  we  will  have 
him,  colonel." 

"Wliat  has  he  doner 

"  He's  at  the  bottom  of  the  insurrection." 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

"  A  nigger  confessed  it  all." 

"I  suppose  the  negro  was  in  the  hands  of  your 
patrol  V 

"  Of  course  he  was." 


188  ROEBUCK. 

'*  You  flogged  him  to  make  liim  confess  V* 

'•  Of  coui-se  we  did." 

''  On  the  extorted  confession  of  a  negro  you  pro- 
ceed to  this  outrage,  then  I" 

"  We  know  his  story's  true." 

"  How  can  you  know  it?  If  you  are  so  sure  of  it, 
go  to  a  magistrate  and  get  a  legal  warrant.  Shame 
on  such  lawlessness!" 

"  Colonel,  it's  no  use  talking.  We  are  bound  to 
have  him  out." 

''Then  you  must  take  me  first.  Beware  I  You 
are  in  more  danger  than  Mr.  Palmer." 

At  this  moment  screams  of  women  were  heard  in 
the  house.  During  the  parley  one  of  the  besiegers, 
tempted  by  an  unfastened  sash,  entered  a  back  win- 
dow. Hurrying  forward  in  the  dark,  he  opened  the 
door  of  Mi-s.  Palmer's  chamber  and  rushed  in.  The 
ladies  screamed,  and  ^Mi's.  Palmer  ran  to  the  parlor 
in  which  the  gentlemen  were,  followed  by  the  in- 
truder. As  soon  as  he  appeared,  Mr.  Palmer  fired  a 
pistol  at  him,  but  missed  him.  The  intruder  attempted 
to  seize  that  gentleman,  at  the  same  time  brandishing 
a  knife.  As  he  turned  towards  Mr.  Palmer,  Colonel 
Fau-fax  grasped  him  round  the  body,  lifted  him  from 
the  floor,  carried  him  to  the  front  window,  which  had 
been  opened,  and  hurled  him  out.  He  fell  heavily  to 
the  ground,  and  lay  there,  stunned  by  the  fall. 

All  this  ]Dassed  so  rapidly  that  Paris  stood  still  at 
the  spot  from  which  he  had  held  the  parley,  and  was 
waiting  for  some  explanation  of  the  noise  within  the 
house,  when  he  saw  his  comrade  hurled  fi'om  the 
window.  He  imagined  that  the  man  had  been  killed 
by  the  pistol-shot.  He  was  afraid  to  approach  the 
window.     He  withdrew  to  a  more  remote  part  of  the 


ROEBUCK.''  189 

grounds.  After  waiting  a  short  time  in  vain  for  his 
fallen  comrade  to  rise  and  follow  him,  he  began  to 
consider  that  the  house  Avas  prepared  for  defence, 
that  the  defence  was  resolute  and  might  be  desperate, 
that  it  was  conducted  by  a  citizen  of  unblemished 
reputation  and  great  influence,  and  that  in  the  end 
tlie  penalties  of  law  might  be  enforced.  lie  there- 
fore whistled  the  signal  of  retreat  and  drew  off  his 
forces.  Soon  afterwards  the  man  who  had  been 
thrown  from  the  window  crawled  away  and  followed 
his  comrades. 

At  first  it  could  not  be  known  how  far  they  had 
gone  nor  how  soon  they  might  return.  It  was  some 
time  before  the  alarm  of  the  ladies  subsided.  To 
assure  them  of  safety  and  to  resist  another  attack,  if 
another  should  be  made.  Colonel  Fairfax  remained 
until  a  late  hour  of  the  night.  When  all  danger 
appeared  to  be  over,  the  colonel,  now  anxious  for  the 
security  of  his  own  home,  Avas  about  to  depart.  The 
ladies  were  profuse  in  expressions  of  gratitude  to 
him.  Mrs.  Palmer  paid  out  a  neat  little  speech, 
redolent  of  fine  sentiments  and  garnished  with  scraps 
of  Latin.  Even  Mr.  Palmer  so  far  overcame  the 
restraints  of  habitual  reserve  and  conscious  turpitude 
as  to  thank  the  colonel  quite  warmly.  He  accom- 
panied him  out  of  the  door  and  detained  him  a 
minute  or  two  on  the  portico  to  repeat  his  gi-ateful 
words.  "While  he  was  thus  employed,  a  pistol  was 
fired  in  the  shadow  of  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  por- 
tico. A  moment  afterwards  a  negro  man  rushed  from 
the  pillar  and  aimed  a  blow  with  a  pistol  at  Mr. 
Palmer's  head.  Colonel  Fairfax,  throwing  up  his 
arm,  intercepted  the  blow.  The  negro,  foiled  in  both 
his  murderous  attempts,  ran  past  and   soon   disap- 


190  ROEBUCK/ 

peared.  Upon  examination,  it  was  found  that  a  bul- 
let had  passed  through  the  collar  of  Mr.  Palmer's 
coat,  but  he  was  unhurt. 

"It  was  Mike,"  he  remarked,  but  he  offered  no 
conjecture  as  to  the  probable  motive  of  the  assault, 
nor  did  he  propose  pursuit.  This  incident  renewed 
the  agitation  and  alann  of  the  ladies,  and  detained 
the  colonel  still  longer.  At  length  he  started  home- 
ward. 

During  his  absence  from  Roebuck  events  had  hap- 
pened which  it  is  necessaiy  now  to  recount.  On 
Sunday  afternoon  his  daughter,  Julia,  went  two  or 
three  miles  from  home  to  \-isit  a  poor  woman  who  was 
sick.  Finding  the  woman  quite  ill  she  remained  with 
her  until  it  was  growing  dark.  Then,  mounting  her 
horse — her  favorite  "  Arab  " — she  started  homeward 
alone.  Her  road  was  little  more  than  a  bridle-path, 
and  led  through  the  Bku*t  of  a  wood  by  the  spring 
which  was  called  the  Poplar  Spring,  and  which,  it  may 
be  remembered,  i\Iike-  had  appointed  as  the  place 
where  Jake  and  Cato  were  to  meet  him  about  tho 
same  hour  that  Julia  was  riding  home.  The  spring 
rose  just  beside  the  path  and  flowed  across  it.  When 
Julia  Avas  passing  it  her  horse  di'opped  his  head  to 
drink,  and  she  permitted  him  to  stop.  While  he  was 
drinking  three  negro  men  stepped  into  the  path.  One 
of  them  seized  the  bridle  ;  the  other  two  posted  them- 
selves at  each  side  of  the  horse.  Each  of  them  cai'- 
ried  a  club.  They  said  nothing.  She  was  surprised, 
but  she  was  not  accustomed  to  fear  negroes.  Even 
their  formidable  appearance  and  movement  did  not 
deprive  her  of  corn-age.  Instantly  drawing  her  rein, 
she  struck  Ai-ab  shai-ply  with  her  riding-smtoh,  in- 
tending to  break  away  from  the  fellow  who  held  tho 


ROEBUCK.  191 

bridle.  The  horse  sprang  forward,  but  the  negro  held 
fast,  and  threw  him  back  on  his  haunches. 

"  You  better  be  quiet,"  he  then  said.  She  leaned 
forward  and  struck  him  across  the  face  with  her 
switch,  saying,  "Begone!  how  dare  you*?"  He 
winced,  but  still  held  the  bridle. 

"  Better  be  quiet,  I  tell  you  agin,  Miss  Fairfax ; 
you  shan't  be  hurt  5  close  up  dar,  boys;  don't  let  her 
git  away." 

"Who  are  you?" 

"  I's  Palmer's  Mike.  I  don't  keer  who  knows  me, 
but  I  won't  tell  you  who  dese  other  fellers  is." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  me  V* 

"  Jis  take  you  to  a  safe  place." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?'* 

Mike  made  no  reply.  He  set  the  party  in  motion, 
turning  from  the  road  into  the  pathless  wood,  himself 
holding  the  bridle  and  the  other  two  men  walking 
close  by  the  sides  of  the  horse.  They  went  on  silently 
for  some  time.  Their  progress  was  slow  among  the 
trees  and  thickets.  Their  course  led  them  into  the 
deepest  part  of  the  forest.  Julia,  ignorant  of  their 
design  and  of  her  destination,  a  prisoner  of  three  black 
ruffians,  could  not  wholly  resist  the  depressing  influ- 
ence of  these  alarming  circumstances.  In  the  gloom 
of  night  and  of  the  wilderness  her  imagination  was 
filled  with  frightful  visions  of  coming  danger.  She 
watched  in  vain  for  some  opportunity  of  escape. 
Several  times  she  attempted  to  converse  with  her  cap- 
tors and  to  learn  her  probable  fate.  Bat  they  main- 
tained a  sullen  and  ominous  silence.  Still  her  natural 
courage  was  not  quite  subdued.  By  a  vigorous  effort 
she  kept  her  faculties  in  readiness  for  an  emergency 
or  an  opportunity,  in  spite  of  the  quick  heating  of  her 


192  ROEBUCK 

heaii:.  In  the  dense  wood  sometimes  the  low  branches 
of  the  trees  almost  swept  her  from  her  saddle.  This 
annoyance  at  last  suggested  to  her  a  method  of 
escape. 

A  long,  large  limb,  growing  square  out  from  the 
body  of  a  beech  tree,  at  a  height  level  with  her  chin 
as  she  sat  upright,  was  about  to  sti'ike  her  face  in  the 
darkness.  She  happened  to  discover  it  in  time  to 
throw  her  arms  over  it.  In  that  way  she  lifted  herself 
out  of  the  saddle  and  let  her  horse  walk  from  beneath 
her.  She  remained  thus  suspended  in  the  air  until  the 
negroes  had  passed  on  so  far  that  she  thought  they 
could  not  hear  the  noise  of  her  movement,  and  then 
she  s^^T.mg  herself  along  to  the  body  of  the  tree,  and 
then,  climbing  above  the  limb,  she  sat  upon  it  She 
intended  to  remain  there  until  her  captors,  who  would, 
doubtless,  miss  her  very  soon,  should  have  failed  in  a 
search  for  her  and  left  the  wood  free  for  her  escape. 
In  a  few  minutes  they  discovered  that  she  was  not 
upon  the  hoi*se.  Mike  railed  at  his  followers  for  their 
negligence,  and  they  were  wholly  unable  to  conjecture 
how  or  where  she  had  eluded  their  vigilance.  They 
all  turned  back  and  commenced  a  search  for  her  in 
every  direction  through  the  forest  She  could  hear 
them  shouting  to  each  other  and  sometimes  consulting 
together.  Mike  appeared  to  apprehend  serious  conse- 
quences from  hcH.-  escape,  and  gave  vent  to  his  chagi'in 
in  curses.  When  they  had  been  searching  a  long 
time  and  seemed  almost  in  despair  of  success,  Mike, 
still  leading  her  horse,  passed  under  the  branch  on 
which  she  was  perched.  The  sagacious  and  affection- 
ate Arab  raised  his  head  and  uttered  the  low  whinny- 
ing sound  wliich  is  the  natm'al  note  of  recognition 
and  of  pleasui-e  with  his  kind.    The  attention  of  3Iike 


ROEBUCK.  193 

was   instantly  directed   towards  the  tree,  for  he  was 
familiar  with  the  habits  of  horses  and  knew  the  supe- 
rior intelligence  of  Arab.     lie  began  to  pry  among 
the  branches,  and  in  a  short  time  he  discovered  his 
captive.     She  was  compelled  to  descend  and  resume 
her  place  in  the  saddle.     Thenceforth  the  vigilance  of 
the  guard  was  redoubled,  and  avoiding  the  darkest 
parts   of  the  forest,  they  moved  along  paths  which 
were  known  to  the  negroes.     Now  and  then  they 
pansed    and    whispering    consultations    took    place 
among  them,  which  Miss  Fairfjxx  was  not  permitted 
to   hear.      Some    of  these    conversations,    however, 
appeared  to  be  on  the  point  of  running  into  violent 
disputes  between  Mike  and  Jake,  and  she  thought  her 
own  name  was  repeated  in  tones  of  remonstrance  or 
of  anger.    How  long  a  time  or  how  far  she  had  been 
journeying  in  captivity  she  could  not  determine,  when 
Jake,  who  walked  on  her  left,  approached  very  close 
to  the  horse,  and  laid  his  hand  upon  her  arm.  "  Stand 
back,  villain!"  she  cried,  and  the  cry  aiTesting  Mike, 
he  turned  back  towards  her  just  as  his  ruffianly  com- 
rade seized  Miss  Fairfax  by  the  waist.      She  screamed 
and  stniggled,  but  she  wasjas  child  in  the  grasp  of  the 
stout  negro.    Mike  sprang  at  him,  wrenched  his  hands 
from  Julia,  and  flung  him  upon  the  earth.     His  fol- 
lower rose  and  rushed  with  fury  at  Mike,  but  the  lat- 
ter struck  him  on  the  head  with  his  club  and  felled 
him.     Jake  lay  outstretched,  as  if  he  was  dead,  and 
Mike,  not  knowing  whether  he  was  dead  or  alive,  left 
him  and  resumed  the  march.     He  took  care,  however, 
to  supply  the  place  of  the  missing  guard  by  his  own 
watchfulness,  so  that  the  captive  could  not  escape. 

Julia  was   unable   to  recognize  any  of  the  places 
thi-ougU  which  she  was  carried,  until,  at  length,  they 

9 


lai  ROEBUCK. 

came  upon  a  road  and  she  saw  Marlin's  cabin,  which 
they  were  about  to  pass.  The  sight  of  it  revived  her 
hope  of  escape.  When  tliey  came  nearly  opposite  to 
the  cabin  she  suddenly  struck  her  horse  with  all  her 
force,  and  at  the  same  time  called  the  name  of  Mrs. 
Marlin.  Arab  bounded  with  such  violence  that  he 
overthrew  IMike,  but  the  determined  fellow  held  fast 
by  the  bridle  and  was  dragged  along  the  ground.  She 
repeated  her  blows  until  the  spirited  horse  was  plung- 
ing frantically,  but  still  Mike  held  on.  She  repeated 
her  cries  also  until  Mrs.  Marlin  ran  out  of  the  cabin. 
Awakened  and  startled  by  the  voice  of  alarm,  she 
hm-ried  towards  her  door  and  stumbled  over  a  stool. 
The  accident,  and  her  quick  apprehension  of  danger, 
l)rompted  her  to  pick  up  the  stool  and  carry  it  with 
licr  as  a  weapon  of  defence.  Hastening  into  the  road, 
she  recognized  the  voice  and  the  horse  of  Julia,  and 
saw  Cato  running  about  her.  Advancing  to  the  rescue 
of  her  friend,  she  gave  Cato  a  vigorous  blow  with  the 
weapon  she  carried  in  her  hand,  and  that  timid  rascal 
rolled  over  in  the  dirt.  He  lay  very  quiet,  aftecting 
to  be  quite  disabled.  Mike,  seeing  the  turn  which 
affairs  had  taken,  let  go  the  bridle,  scrambled  to  his 
feet  and  ran  away. 

Mi-s.  Marlin  then  assisted  Julia  to  alight.  She  was 
much  fetigued,  and  with  the  revulsion  of  feeling  that 
overcame  her  when  she  saw  that  she  was  free,  she 
became  fiiut.  The  good  woman  led  her  into  the 
cabin,  and  she  sat  down  to  rest  and  recover  her  spirits 
while  Mrs.  Marlin  busied  herself  in  getting  a  light, 
bringing  restoratives  and  preparing  a  bed.  Eliza 
also,  aroused  from  the  dreamless  slumber  of  girlhood, 
chattered  her  sympathy  and  flew  about,  eager  to  do 
something:  for  Julia's  comfoil.     In  a  short  time,  how- 


ROEBUCK.  195 

ever,  the  young  lady  declared  herself  able  to  ride, 
and  thanking  her  kind  friends,  she  determined  to 
return  home  immediately.  She  knew  that  her  father 
and  mother  would  be  in  great  distress  and  alarm  on 
account  of  her  absence,  and  she  was  anxious  to  re- 
lieve them  as  soon  as  possible.  Mrs.  Marlin  would 
have  persuaded  her  to  take  some  repose,  and  offered 
to  ride  to  Roebuck  herself.  When  she  could  not 
prevail  in  tliis,  she  insisted  on  walking  beside  the 
horse,  as  an  escort  for  Julia.  But  Miss  Fairfax 
would  not  suffer  her  to  undertake  such  a  journey 
afoot,  and  expressed  her  belief  that  she  would  be  in 
no  further  danger  during  that  niglit.  She  had  quite 
recovered  her  courage  and  resolved  to  ride  home 
alone.  But  when  she  left  the  cabin  for  that  purpose, 
her  horse  was  not  to  be  found.  Both  he  and  Cato 
had  disappeared. 

What  then  was  to  be  done  ?  The  distance  to  Roe- 
buck was  not  less  than  six  miles.  Julia,  whose 
strength  was  almost  exhausted  by  the  events  of  the 
night,  was  wholly  unable  to  walk  so  far.  Yet  she 
could  not  bear  to  leave  her  parents  without  intelli- 
gence of  her  safety.  After  much  discussion  she  was 
about  to  accede  to  the  proposal  of  Mrs.  Marlin  to 
walk  to  Roebuck,  when  Eliza  offered  to  go  to  Wil- 
lowbank  and  procure  a  horse  for  Miss  Fairfax.  It 
would  be  a  walk  of  about  two  miles,  and  it  might  be 
attended  with  some  danger,  as  the  occurrences  of  the 
night  had  proved.  But  the  warm-hearted  girl  desired 
to  serve  lier  friend,  and  the  idea  of  danger  rather 
stimulated  than  daunted  her.  When  the  project  had 
taken  possession  of  her  lively  little  brain  she  did  not 
rest  until  she  had  brought  her  mother  and  Miss  Fair- 
fax to  consent  to  it,  and  then  she  tripped  away  through 
the  darkness. 


106  PtOEBUCK. 

Before  there  vr^s  time  for  her  to  have  sent  a  horse 
from  VrilloAvbank,  a  neigh  wa3  heard  by  the  women 
in  the  caVin,  and  Julia,  who  was  lying  down,  lifted 
lier  head  and  said,  "  that's  Arab."  They  went  out 
and  found  that  her  horse  had  returned  and  was  stand- 
ing at  the  gate.  Without  further  delay  Julia  mounted 
him  and  turned  his  head  homeward.  Mrs.  Marlin 
walked  half  a  mile  with  her,  and  then,  as  no  sign  of 
danger  appeared,  and  she  was  retarding  the  impatient 
horse-woman,  she  was  pei'suaded  to  return.  The  road 
to  Roebuck  was  rather  obscure  and  rough,  being  but 
little  travelled.  At  night  it  was  dreary.  Julia  rode 
on,  however,  safely  and  pretty  briskly,  until  she  was 
about  two  miles  from  the  cabin.  Then  she  was  slowly 
ascending  a  hill,  and  on  turning  round  a  jutting 
j^oint,  she  saw  a  black  man  walking  towards  her 
and  already  close  to  her  horse's  head.  She  did  not 
know  the  truculent  Jake,  but  he  recognized  her,  and 
immediately  seizing  her  bridle,  raised  his  club.  His 
tlii'eatening  movement  startled  her,  but  she  did  not 
lose  her  presence  of  mind.  Seeing  that  by  no  effort 
could  she  escape,  she  determined  to  try  the  effect  of 
talking  to  the  fellow. 

"  What  do  you  want '?"  she  fisked. 

"  I  want  you,"  he  answered,  and  instantly  clutched 
her  arm  in  his  great,  rough  hand.  He  dragged  her 
downward  with  such  sudden  violence  that  she  fell 
heavily  to  the  ground.  Jake  stooped  over  hei*  and 
then  paused.  He  heard  the  clatter  of  a  horse's  hoofs 
on  the  road.  He  stood  listening  and  looking  until  he 
ascertained  that  a  horseman,  rapidly  approaching,  was 
near  at  hand,  and  then  he  plunged  from  the  road 
down  the  hill-side  into  a  Avood.  lie  left  Miss  Fairfax 
lyiug  almost  insensible.     When  the  horseman  arrived 


ROEBUCK.  197 

he  leai>ecl  from  his  saddle  and  knelt  by  her  side.  He 
lifted  her  head  and  said,  in  a  tone  of  tender  anxiety — 
"  Julia,  are  you  hurt  V 

Receiving  no  reply,  he  placed  his  arm  about  her, 
drawing  her  head  to  his  breast  and  said,  "  Julia,  dear 
Julia,  tell  me — are  you  hurt?' 

She  feebly  answered,  "  no,  not  much."  Presently 
reviving  somewhat,  she  added,  "  no,  thank  Heaven,  I 
am  not  hurt.  I  was  frightened.  My  nerves  are 
shaken,  but  I  feel  no  pain."  After  another  pause  she 
continued,  "  I  can  rise  now." 

But  he  whispered,  "  rest  a  moment — you  are  not 
yet  strong  enough." 

Then  looking  up,  she  asked,  "  whom  shall  I  thank 
for  this  deliverance  f  and  as  the  moon,  gleaming 
through  the  tree-tops,  began  to  give  some  light,  she 
exclaimed — "  it  is  Captain  Fitzhugh." 

"  Yes,  it  is  I,"  he  replied. 

"  O,  how  thankful  I  am,"  she  murmured. 

With  his  assistance  she  rose  and  gtood  a  little  while, 
not  without  his  support.  Then,  as  she  recovered  her 
strength,  she  blushed  and  withdrew  from  his  arm, 
saying  she  was  able  to  ride.  After  assisting  her  to 
her  saddle.  Captain  Fitzhugh — no  longer  captain, 
however,  for  the  major  of  his  regiment  had  died  of 
wounds  received  at  Manassa  and  he  had  succeeded  to 
that  "rank — mounted  his  horse  and  rode  beside  her 
towards  Roebuck. 


198  HOE  BUCK. 

CHAPTER  XVm. 

LOVE     AT     TwOEBUCK. 

Mike's  principal  plan  embraced  only  a  speedy  flight 
from  the  countiy  after  providing  a  good  supply  of 
money  or  of  portable  plate  and  of  horses.  He  thirsted 
for  a  particular  revenge,  but  he  did  not  desu-e  to  com- 
mit unnecessary  acts  of  violence  which  might  provoke 
pursuit  or  subject  him  to  severe  retribution  in  the 
event  of  his  capture.  When  the  evening  arrived  for 
the  execution  of  his  project,  he  was  not  yet  provided 
with  a  horse  such  as  he  thought  desirable  for  a  rapid 
flight,  and  he  feared  that  those  which  were  to  be 
brought  to]^himj  might  not  be  very  swift.  When 
!Miss  Fairfax  appeared  at  the  Poplar  Spring,  riding  an 
animal  which  was  reputed  to  be  one  of  the  fleetest  in 
the  county,  he  was  suddenly  tempted  to  obtain  posses- 
sion of  the  horse.  But  he  reflected  that  if  he  permit- 
ted Miss  Fahfax  to  go  on  to  Boebuck  after  taking  her 
horse,  the  alarm  which  she  would  give  might  lead  to 
the  defeat  of  his  entire  scheme.  It  occurred  to  him, 
therefore,  that  it  would  be  safer  to  carry  her  with  him 
and  detain  her  in  some  secure  place  until  he  was  ready 
to  set  ofi'on  his  long  journey.  Besides,  in  attempting 
to  justify  a  rash  act  to  himself,  he  conceived  a  vague 
notion  that  she  mis^ht  be  valuable  as  a  hostas^e  in  cer- 
tain  contingencies.  His  conduct  and  his  reasoning 
were  alike  absui-d,  and  served  to  prove  how  incompe- 
tent a  negro  is — even  one  comparatively  shrewd — to 
devise  or  execute  any  complicated  scheme.     Without 


ROEBUCK.  199 

explaining  to  his  followers,  Jake  and  Cato,  the  object  of 
his  proceeding,  he  gave  them  the  orders  which,  as  we 
have  seen,  they  executed  until  Jake,  obeying  his  own 
fissions,  attempted  an  act  of  violence  inconsistent 
"svith  Mike's  plan. 

When  Mike  fled  from  Marlin's  cabin  he  hastened  to 
Willowbank.  The  hour  which  he  had  appointed  for 
meeting  blind  Pete  in  the  grove  was  already  past. 
The  two  men  upon  whom  Mike  had  relied,  with  the 
assistance  of  Hannibal  in  the  house,  to  execute  the  rob- 
bery under  his  lead,  were  left  behind.  On  arriving 
before  the  mansion  he  deliberated  whether  he  should 
undertake  the  enterprise  with  no  other  aid  than  that 
of  his  confederate,  Hannibal.  He  anticipated  no  resis- 
tance which  they  could  not  easily  overcome.  But  he 
feared  that  if  any  force  should  become  necessary,  Han- 
nibal might  fail  to  support  him,  or  possibly  might 
oppose  him.  He  therefore  concluded  to  call  in  the 
two  men  who  were  to  accompany  blind  Pete.  With 
that  view  he  proceeded  to  the  grove  and  found  Pete 
with  the  two  negroes.  They  had  been  greatly  per- 
plexed by  Mike's  delay,  and  were  about  to  abandon 
the  enterprise  and  return  to  then*  several  haunts.  He 
ofiered  them  some  plausible  explanation  of  his  deten- 
tion and  of  the  absence  of  Jake  and  Cato.  He  told 
them  of  the  treasure  which  was  to  be  obtained  in 
the  house,  and  enlisted  them  in  the  robbery.  While 
he  was  engaged  in  making  this  new  arrangement,  Cato 
had  mounted  Arab  at  Marlin's  cabin  and  followed 
liim  ;  but  when  he  came  to  Willowbank  he  could  not 
find  his  leader,  and  knowing  nothing  of  the  rendez- 
vous at  the  grove,  he  turned  back,  and  after  riding 
some  distance,  let  the  horse  loose  and  took  to  the 
woods.  Arab,  finding  himself  at  liberty,  went  on  to  the 
cabin. 


200  ROEBUCK. 

Mike,  followed  by  the  two  negro  men  whom  he  had 
just  enlisted  in  the  scheme  of  burglary,  approached 
the  front  door  of  the  house,  expecting  it  to  be  opened 
by  Hannibal.  The  whole  house  was  dark  and  quiet. 
lie  made  a  concerted  sign  at  the  door,  but  it  was  not 
opened.  He  whispered  the  name  of  Hannibal  through 
tlie  key-hole,  but  heard  no  response.  He  went  along 
the  porch,  and  at  every  window  endeavored  to  attract 
the  notice  of  his  confederate.  Still  Hannibal  gave  no 
answer.  Mike  had  almost  concluded  that  he  had 
tailed  to  fulfil  his  engagement  when  one  of  his  men, 
listening  at  the  door,  heard  a  loud  snore  within.  Han- 
nibal had  stationed  himself  there  at  the  appointed 
hour,  but  during  the  delay  which  occurred  he  fell 
asleep.  Becoming  convinced  that  he  Avas  there,  Mike 
was  at  a  loss  how  to  wake  hun  without  arrousing  all 
the  mmates.  After  scratching  his  woolly  pate  for 
some  time,  he  hit  upon  a  plan.  He  found  the  old  door 
fitted  its  frame  so  ill  that  there  was  space  for  the  in- 
sertion of  a  small  stick  beneath  it.  He  procured  a 
rod,  sharpened  it,  and  began  to  puncture  the  person 
of  the  somnolent  Hannibal.  Partially  awaking,  that 
sentinel  uttered,  "  ugh,  ugh,"  and  sunk  back  into  pro- 
found sleep.  But  by  perseverance  in  punching  and 
whispei'ing,  Mike  finally  roused  him  up,  and  he  opened 
the  door.  While  he  stood  rubbing  his  eyes  the  three 
men  who  entered  passed  by  him,  groped  their  way 
to  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  began  to  ascend.  At  that 
moment  they  were  startled  by  a  light  which  appeared 
at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

Mrs.  Fitzhugh  being  a  nervous  iiivalid,  never  slept 
profoundly.  She  had  heard  almost  the  first  sound  made 
by  the  negroes  on  the  porch.  AYhen  it  was  repeated 
she  called  her  servant,  Belle,  a  faithful  negress,  who 


ROEBUCK.  201 

slept  in  the  same  room,  and  sent  lier  to  ascertain  the 
cause  of  the  noise.  She  retm*necl  and  reported  lier 
belief  that  robbers  were  trying  to  break  into  the  house. 
Her  mistress  made  her  light  a  candle  at  a  taper  which 
was  kept  burning  dimly  in  the  chamber.  Mrs.  Fitz- 
hugh  rose  and  took  down  an  old  sword  which  hung 
in  the  room  and  which  had  belonged  to  her  deceased 
husband.  She  directed  Belle  to  arm  herself  with  the 
old  lady's  cane,  and  then  the  two  women  sallied  out 
of  the  chamber  to  the  hoad  of  the  stairs.  The  servant 
set  the  candle  on  a  stand  in  the  hall  and  they  peered 
downward  to  discover  what  was  passing  at  the  front 
door.  It  was  then  that  Mike  and  his  accomplices 
started  up  the  steps. 

When  they  came  into  the  light,  Mrs.  Fitzhugh, 
seeing  that  they  were  negroes,  sternly  ordered  them 
to  go  back,  and  haughtily  rebuked  their  insolence  in 
thus  intruding  into  the  house  of  a  lady.  They  kept 
on  until  they  stood  upon  the  landing  of  the  stairs,  a 
few  steps  bqjow  the  two  women,  and  focing  them. 
Mike  then  paused.  It  was  part  of  his  plan  to  avoid 
fatal  violehce,  if  possible.  He  saw  that  the  women 
were  prepared  to  make  resistance,  and  he  knew  the 
proud  and  resolute  spirit  of  Mrs.  Fitzhugh.  She 
stood  before  him  in  her  night-dress,^pale,  emaciated 
and  feeble,  but  holding  a  sword  and  breathing  scorn- 
ful defiance.  He  did  not  doubt  his  ability  to  over- 
come her  resistance,  but  he  hesitated  to  commence  a 
conflict  in  which  blood  might  be  shed.  Perhaps,  too, 
the  habitual  ascendancy  of  the  white  race  somewhat 
cowed  his  spirit.  But,  after  standing  a  short  time, 
the  temptation  of  plunder  or  the  reckless  feeling  that 
he  had  gone  too  far  to  recede  prevailed.  He  rushed 
forward.     The  two  men  who  had  stood  cowering  be- 

9* 


202  ROEBUCK. 

hind  him  while  he  hesitated  did  not  immediately  fol- 
low him.  As  he  approached  the  head  of  the  stairs 
alone,  Belle,  who  stood  above  him,  stnick  a  blow  with 
the  cane,  which  sent  him  swaying  and  staggering 
back  to  the  landing.  He  soon  recovered  his  balance, 
and  enraged  by  the  stroke,  he  called  upon  the  ether 
men  to  follow,  and  was  about  to  ascend  again.  But 
Hannibal,  now  fully  awake,  and  hearing  the  noise  of 
conflict,  cried  from  below — "  you  shan't  hurt  missus. 
You  promised  you  wouldn't  hurt  missus."  The 
worthless  fellow,  willing  to  rob  his  mistress  if  he 
might  share  the  spoil,  had  too  much  gratitude  for  the 
indulgence  which  had  ruined  him,  or  was  too  faithful 
to  permit  any  j^ersonal  injury  to  be  inflicted  upon 
her.  He  i*an  up  the  stairs  with  long  strides,  and 
seizing  one  of  the  men  by  the  throat,  began  to  drag 
him  down.  Just  then  another  person  unexpectedly 
entered  the  scene.  A  white  man  ran  up  the  steps, 
and  hurrying  past  the  others,  caught  Mike,  when  he 
had  almost  reached  the  floor  above,  and  hurled  him 
back  headlang  to  the  landing.  Snatching  the  sword 
from  Mrs.  Fitzhugh,  he  iiiced  about  and  descended 
towards  the  negi'oes.  They  did  not  wait  for  him,  but 
leaped,  rolled  or  tumbled  down  the  stairs  pell-mell, 
and  escaped,  '-i"  My  dear  Hugh !  My  brave  son ! 
Thank  God!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Fitzhugh. 

There  was  not  time  after  this  aftair  for  many  ex- 
planations between  her  and  her  son,  when  Eliza  Mar- 
lin  arrived  on  the  eiTand  she  had  undertaken  for  Miss 
Fairfax.  When  her  story  had  been  briefly  told,  Mrs. 
Fitzhugh  asked  her  son  if  he  was  too  much  fatigued 
to  go  to  the  relief  of  Julia.  He  was  eager  to  act 
upon  the  suggestion,  and  since  his  mother  was  willing, 
and  he  thoucrht  there  was  no  danger  of  a  renewal  of 


ROEBUCK.  203 

the  attack  at  Willowbank  during  his  absence,  he 
started  off,  and  thougli  his  horse  was  jaded,  he  rode 
raindly.  He  directed  a  servant  to  follow  him  to  Mar- 
lin's  cabin  with  a  horse  for  Julia.  At  the  cabin  he 
heard  what  the  reader  knows  of  her  departure,  and 
hastened  to  overtake  her. 

When  Mike's  attempt  at  robbery  was  defeated,  he 
ran  to  the  grove  in  which  he  had  left  blind  Pete,  and 
mounted  a  horse  which  one  of  the  negroes  had  stolen 
and  brought  there.  He  rode  away,  leaving  his  ac- 
complices without  any  explanation  of  his  purpose  or 
any  instruction  for  their  own  conduct.  Frightened 
and  furious,  he  thought  only  of  perpetrating  an  act 
of  vengeance  and  then  flying  from  the  country.  He 
went  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Palmer,  with  no  definite 
plan,  but  with  a  general  purpose  of  revenge.  To  his 
surprise,  he  found  a  front  window  open  and  light 
streaming  through  it.  Peeping  in,  he  saw  Colonel 
Fairfax,  seated  with  Mr.  Palmer,  and  he  then  sta- 
tioned himself  by  a  pillar,  to  wait  for  the  colonel's 
departm*e  and  for  his  own  opportunity.  He  had  been 
there  but  a  short  time  when  the  opportunity  offered 
itself,  and  he  attempted  to  take  the  life  of  his  master. 
Failing  in  that  attempt,  he  concluded  that  nothing 
remained  for  him  but  speedy  flight.  But  the  Federal 
lines  were  distant,  and  he  distrusted  his  OAvn  ability  to 
make  his  way  to  them.  He  had  before  thought  of 
inducing  Campbell  to  act  as  a  pilot  for  the  fugitive 
party — he  now  resolved  to  apply  to  him.  Going  to 
the  village,  he  sought  the  .ear  of  the  Swan  tavern, 
and  by  a  method  which  he  had  already  used  for  a 
Clandestine  interview  with  Campbell,  obtained  admit- 
tance into  his  chamber.  Rousing  him  from  sleep,  he 
told  that  ambitious  plotter  of  insurrection  that  Cap- 


204  ROEBUCK. 

tain  Fitzhugh,  with  his  whole  company,  had  returned 
to  the  county,  that  tliey  had  that  night  attacked  a 
large  party  of  armed  negroes  and  defeated  them,  and 
werethen  approaching  the  village  to  arrest  Campbell. 
That  gentleman,  dreadfully  alarmed,  anticipated  Mike's 
suggestion  of  flight,  and  thankfully  accepted  the  ne- 
gro's offer  to  sro  with  him. 

"  But  I  have  no  horse,"  said  Campbell,  in  an  agi- 
tated tone. 

'•  Da's  a  good  boss  in  de  stable  of  dis  tavern,"  said 
Mike. 

"  But  he  is  not  mine." 

"  Den  steal  him." 

This  sharp  solution  of  the  difficulty  was  perforce 
accepted,  though  Mike's  unceremonious  designation 
of  the  process  of  appropriation  was  more  consonant 
with  the  negi'o's  morality  than  ^^-ith  the  white  man's 
pride.  Pride  and  honor,  with  human  and  divine 
laws,  yield  to  military  necessity.  In  the  grey  of  the 
morning,  Campbell  and  his  sable  comrade,  mounted 
on  stolen  horses,  caught  a  last  glimpse  of  the  distant 
village. 

When  Colonel  Fairfax,  after  foiling  Mike's  last 
attempt  upon  Mr.  Palmer's  life,  returned  to  Roe- 
buck, he  was  astonished  at  meeting  with  his  wi^e  in 
the  avenue.  She  was  walkmg  there,  in  deep  distress. 
His  first  thought  was  that  his  absence  from  home  had 
excited  such  fears  for  his  safety  that  she  had  started 
out  in  seai'ch  of  him.  Then  he  thought — but  before 
he  could  shape  out  another  conjecture,  ^li's.  Fairfax 
had  cried — "  Julia — ha^'e  you  seen  our  own  dear 
Julia?  We  have  lost  her."  Wringing  her  hands, 
she  gave  way  to  grief  and  apprehension.  Her  hus- 
band, alarmed  by  her  cries  and  tears,  could  not  imme- 


ROEBUCK.  205 

diately  obtain  from  her  an  intelligible  explanation. 
At  length  he  learned  that  Julia  had  not  returned 
home,  and  that  during  the  night  search  had  been 
made  for  her  in  every  direction  and  by  every  person 
on  the  plantation,  without  finding  her  or  discovering 
any  clue  to  the  mystery  of  her  disappearance.  The 
last  that  could  be  heard  of  her  was  that,  after  visiting 
the  sick  neighbor,  she  had  started  to  go  home  alone 
about  dark.  The  servants  were  still  seai-ching  the 
fields,  the  woods  and  the  roads.  Doctor  Dick,  though 
riding  was  yet  painful  to  him,  was  scouring  the  coun- 
try in  pursuit  of  his  favorite  niece.  Several  wounded 
Confederate  soldiers  who  were  entertained  at  Roe- 
buck, as  in  a  hospital,  had  left  their  beds  and,  on 
crutches,  were  looking  about  in  impossible  places  for 
the  missing  matron  of  their  infirmary.  Everybody 
loved  Julia. 

When  her  father  had  reflected  a  moment  on  what 
was  told  him,  he  inquired  whether  any  one  had  gone 
to  Marlin's  cabin.  lie  was  told  that  some  of  the  ser- 
vants had  been  sent  on  the  road  which  led  in  that  di- 
rection, but  it  was  not  known  that  any  one  had 
thought  of  going  the  whole  distance  to  Marlin's. 
"Without  any  distinct  reason  for  supposing  that  she 
might  be  heard  of  there,  her  father  could  not  discover 
that  anything  had  been  left  undone  which  was  less 
unpromising  than  inquiry  at  that  place.  Impatient 
to  do  something  that  might  enable  liim  to  trace  his 
daughter,  and  agitated  by  fears  which  even  her  mother 
did  not  entertain  because  she  knew  less  than  he  did  of 
the  disturbances  in  the  neighborhood,  he  set  out  to- 
wards Marlin's.  His  wife,  whom  he  soothed  with 
hopes  which  he  could  not  feel,  consented  to  return 
to  the  house  and  await  the  result  of  his  inquiries. 


206  ROEBUCK. 

He  had  not  rode  more  than  a  mile  when  he 
met  his  daughter  with  Major  Fitzhiigh.  Kecog- 
nizing  her  at  some  distance  he  exclaimed — "my 
child!  thank  God!  my  child!"  He  leaped  from  his 
horse  and  ran  to  embrace  her.  lie  saw  by  the  moon- 
light that  she  Aras  extremely  pale.  AYhen  she  leaned 
down  to  kiss  him,  and  he  felt  the  tremor  of  her  hand, 
tears  welled  up  in  his  eyes.  The  emotions  which  suc- 
ceeded his  extreme  anxiety  for  her  safety  could  find 
no  other  utterance. 

'"  Where  have  you  been  all  this  night,  my  daugh- 
ter?" he  asked  as  soon  as  he  could  command  his 
voice. 

"  I  will  tell  you  all,  papa,  Avhen  we  get  home.  I 
am  fatigued  but  unhurt." 

"  You  seem  to  be  very  feeble,  daughter.  Can  you 
ride  home  V 

"Yes,  papa,  but  I  must  ride  slowly.  Poor 
mamma!  I  fear  she  is  in  distress.  Captain  Fitz- 
hugh,  will  you  have  the  kindness  to  ride  on  and 
relieve  her  mind  ?  Papa  will  take  care  of  me.  You 
neglect  to  speak  to  your  fi-iend.  Captain  Fitzhugh, 
papa !  lie  has  placed  us  under  the  greatest  obliga- 
tion to  him  for  my  safety  to-night." 

"Pardon  me,  Hugh.  You  are  welcome  to  the 
county.  I  wdll  find  Avords  to  thank  you  when  we 
arriA^e  at  the  house." 

After  a  hasty  return  of  the  colonel's  greeting,  Fitz- 
hugh rode  on,  Avhile  the  father  and  daughter  followed 
slowly.  When  Julia  arrived  at  home,  she  was  car- 
ried to  her  chamber  and  laid  upon  her  bed,  com- 
pletely exhausted.  She  could  not  leave  her  room  for 
several  days. 

In  spite  of  hospitable  entreaties,  Fitzhngh  left  Roe- 


ROEBUCK.  207 

buck  as  soon  as  slie  amvecl.  lie  was  not  willing  to 
be  longer  absent  from  his  mother.  He,  too,  needed 
repose.  His  wound,  which  at  first  was  not  very  trou- 
blesome, had,  in  the  heat  and  unAvholesome  camp  of 
Manassa,  threatened  serious  consequences.  The  sur- 
geons insisted  that  he  shoulcl  go  home,  and  when  he 
found  that  the  army  was  to  remain  inactive,  he 
yielded  to  their  advice.  Wishing  to  give  his  horses 
the  benefit  of  a  furlough,  he  traveled  on  horseback. 
He  found  himself  within  a  few  miles  of  home  when 
night  overtook  him — the  night  of  the  events  just 
related — and  he  pushed  on.  When  he  alighted  be- 
fore the  mansion  of  Willowbank,  he  saw  a  light 
moving  in  the  house,  and,  approaching  the  door,  he 
found  it  open.  What  followed  is  known.  For  a 
week  after  this  night  he  could  not  move  from  the 
house,  and  it  was  a  month  before  he  could  return  to 
the  army. 

The  history  of  Major  Fitzhugh  and  Julia  Fairfax 
during  that  month  would  be  the  most  delightful  of 
narratives,  if  a  story  of  true  love,  when  its  course 
runs  smooth,  could  impart  to  a  reader  the  happiness 
of  the  lovers.  But  the  sweetest  passage  in  the  life 
of  every  man  and  every  woman  who  has  loved  truly 
and  happily  is  sweetest  only  to  two  beings.  Such 
love,  which  is  the  wine  of  life  in  the  experience,  turns 
to  lees  in  the  description.  The  reader  Avho  has  ever 
read  by  "  the  purple  light "  knows  that  when,  on  that 
memorable  night,  Hugh  Fitzhugh  knelt  beside  Julia, 
with  his  aim  about  her  waist,  and  called  her  "  dear 
Julia,"  the  a  lection  whicli  had  been  budding  on  the 
friendship  of  their  youth  bloomed  into  the  perfect 
llower  of  love.  By  what  more  explicit  words  the 
compact  of  lovers  was  afterwards  sealed  they  might 


208  ROEBUCK. 

not  remember;  but  they  were  plighted.  The  ap- 
proval of  their  fomilies  and  the  favor  of  circum- 
stances left  no  impediment  in  the  way  of  their  wishes. 
During  the  last  three  weeks  that  Major  Fitzhugh 
remained  at  home  he  was  a  daily  visitor  at  Roebuck. 
Colonel  Fairfax  had  regarded  his  talents  and  liis 
generous,  frank  and  honorable  temper  Avith  almost 
paternal  interest,  even  when  he  feared  that  the  bright 
promise  of  his  youth  might  be  blighted  by  the  mildew 
of  indolence  or  the  canker  of  pleasure.  But  now, 
-v^hen  the  strength  and  dignity  of  his  character  were 
developed  by  the  vocation  of  a  patriotic  soldier,  and 
he  displayed  also  the  grace  which  a  true  man  derives 
from  wise  love,  the  colonel  proudly  recognized  in  him 
the  qualities  which  he  would  most  desire  in  his 
daughter's  husband.  Mrs.  Fairfax,  with  a  mother's 
gentle  pride  and  a  woman's  natural  delight  in  a  happy 
match,  built  castles  in  the  ah-  for  her  daughter,  and 
made  her  own  substantial  home  more  smiling  and 
radiant  than  those  fabrics  of  her  fancy.  Julia,  lovely, 
loving  and  beloved,  was  more  beautiful  than  ever,  and 
happier  than  the  happiest  dreams  of  her  childhood. 
Her  voice,  like  the  melody  of  birds,  often  warbled  her 
happiness  in  song.  Hugh  Fitzhugh  fondly  believed 
that  until  then  music  so  melodious  had  never  been 
heard.  Perhaps  it  was  most  pleasant  to  his  ear  when 
it  would  have  been  least  agreeable  to  a  less  passionate 
listener,  for  of  all  her  songs  his  favorite  was, 

THE   SOUTHERN   CAVALIER. 

The  lance  of  chivahy  is  broke,  its  iron  mail  is  rust, 

Bat   knightly  truth  and  courage  live  when  knights  have 

turned  to  dust : 
There  never  rode  a  truer  knight  in  battle  or  career 
Than  this  grey-coated  gentleman,  the  Southern  Cavalier. 


ROEBtrcE.  209 

For  nobler  cause  no  champion  tlid  ever  wield  his  brand 
Than  ours — the  cause  of  liberty  and  of  our  native  land  ; 
Nor  ever  did  more  loyal  kniglit  uplift  his  knightly  spear 
Than  this  grey-coated  gentleman,  the  Southern  Cavalier. 

The  brave  who  for  their  country  die  like  setting  stars  go 

down, 
To  rise  again  from  eve  to  eve,  immortal  in  renown  : 
Kone  braver  stands  a  mark  for  death,  without  reproach  or 

fear, 
Than  this  grey-coated  gentleman,  the  Southern  Cavalier. 

The  gallant  soldier  after  war  remains  his  country's  guest, 
With  praise  of  men  and  woman's  love  and  peace  within  his 

breast, 
And  Pleaven,  that  loves  a  righteous  cause,  hath  smiles  his 

life  to  cheer 
For  this  grey-coated  gentleman,  the  Southern  Cavalier. 


210  ROEBUCK. 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

TREMAINE. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  eighteen  hundred  and 
sixty-two,  both  Fitzhugh  and  Tremaine  had  been  pro- 
moted to  the  rank  of  colonel  in  the  cavalry  of  their 
respective  services.  In  the  previous  autumn  Captain 
Fitzhugh,  with  his  company,  was  sent  to  the  Valley, 
and  serv^ed  under  Jackson  in  guarding  the  junction,  in 
the  winter  expedition  to  Bath  and  Romney,  and  in  the 
brilliant  spring  campaign,  beginning  with  Kernstown 
and  ending  with  Port  Republic,  which  first  made  the 
name  of  Jackson  renowned. 

Probably  no  other  campaign  made  by  so  small  a 
force  in  so  short  a  time  ever  produced  more  impor- 
tant effects  than  the  rapid  succession  of  remarkable 
victories  then  won  by  Jackson  over  several  armies. 
The  immediate  influence  of  this  brilliant  and  unex- 
pected success  upon  the  minds  of  the  Southern  people 
was  as  extraordinary  as  it  was  timely.  Never  at  any 
other  time  dimng  the  war  until  the  final  catastrophe 
was  at  hand,  was  the  South  so  despondent  as  in  the 
spring  of  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-two.  About 
that  time  the  overweening  confidence  inspu'ed  by  the 
Confederate  successes  of  the  previous  year  was  turned 
to  dismay  by  several  disasters.  Most  of  the  volun- 
teers who  composed  the  array  of  the  South  had 
enlisted  for  a  year  only  and  their  term  of  service  wag 
about  to  expire.  It  was  apprehended  that  not  many 
would  renew  their  engagement,  and  that  a  new  army 


ROEBUCK.  211 

couUl  not  be  formed  before  the  disbanding  of  the  old, 
if  at  all.  It  was  deemed  necessary  to  pass  the  law  of 
conscription,  which  compelled  all  white  male  residents 
between  the  ages  of  eighteen  and  thu'ty-five  (with  a 
few  exemptions)  to  serve  in  the  army  three  years  or  to 
furnish  substitutes.  It  required  those  who  had  vol- 
unteered for  a  year  to  remain  in  service  two  years 
longer.  Many  feared  that  this  severe  measure  would 
provoke  resistance,  but  it  was  obeyed  witli  almost 
uncomplaining  patriotism.  The  law,  however,  was  a 
violent  and  impracticable  measure,  and  was  afterwards 
among  the  prominent  causes  of  the  downfall  of  the 
Confederacy.  The  general  alarm  which  led  to  its 
enactment  was  suddenly  relieved  by  the  achievements 
of  "  Stonewall "  Jackson  in  the  Valley,  if  it  is  proper 
thus  to  ascribe  to  him  alone  victories  which  were  due 
to  the  marvellous  endurance  and  unconquerable  valor 
of  the  little  army  which  he  led,  not  less  than  to  the 
genius  of  their  leader.  It  will  be  readily  understood 
that  the  activity  of  that  army,  the  extent  of  country 
which  it  protected,  the  number  of  its  battles,  with  the 
skirmishes  and  other  incidents  of  such  a  campaign, 
afforded  to  every  man  opportunities  for  the  display 
of  the  best  qualities  of  a  soldier.  The  large  amount 
of  intelligence  then  in  the  ranks,  the  general  spirit  of 
patriotism  and  the  individual  independence  nourished 
in  Southern  society  fitted  almost  every  man  to  play  an 
effective  part. 

Tliis  volume  cannot  be  adorned  with  a  history  of 
that  noble  army.  We  cannot  even  take  space  to  re- 
cord the  particular  exploits  of  our  friends.  It  must 
suffice  to  mention  brielly  that  Hugh  Fitzhugh  became 
a  lieutenant-colonel  during  the  winter,  that  when  the 
whole  army  was  reorganized  in  the  spring,  under  the 


S12  ROEBUCK. 

law  of  conscription,  be  was  elected  colonel,  and  tha. 
he  was  acknowledged  to  have  fairly  won  his  promo- 
tions by  his  gallant  and  skilful  conduct.  At  the  new 
election  Mark  Marlin  was  chosen  a  lieutenant,  with 
the  unanimous  approbation  of  the  young  gentlemen 
and  other  members  of* his  company.  With  his  com- 
mission he  acquired  the  social  rank  of  a  gentleman, 
according  to  the  theory  of  his  youthful  ambition,  and 
his  deportment  was  faithful  to  his  model. 

About  the  same,  time  such  changes  took  place  in 
the  military  lines  that  Roebuck  became  accessible  to 
the  Federal  troops.  The  county  remained  for  a  time 
debatable  ground,  and  was  visited  occasionally  by 
cavahy  fi-om  both  sides.  At  length,  however,  a 
Federal  detachment  was  stationed  in  the  village, 
under  the  command  of  Colonel  Tremaine.  It  was  suf- 
ficient, with  the  support  of  a  larger  force  at  no  great 
distance,  to  hold  the  county,  but  not  to  prevent  occa- 
sional and  rapid  incursions  of  Confederate  horse. 
The  Federal  cavalry  in  Virginia  was  still  inferior,  and 
poverty  had  not  yet  unhorsed  the  Confederates.  At 
the  time  of  the  events  about  to  be  narrated.  Colonel 
Fitzhugh,  with  his  regiment,  Avas  stationed  some 
twenty  miles  from  the  village,  and  a  considerable  dis- 
tance in  advance  of  any  large  Southern  army.  The 
force  under  Colonel  Tremaine  was  composed  of  his 
own  regiment  of  cavalry,  and  a  regiment  of  infantry. 
The  latter  was  commanded  by  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Wesel,  a  German,  who  was  in  daily  expectation  of 
being  promoted  to  the  office  of  colonel  of  his  regi- 
ment, then  vacant.  He  had  been  a  butcher  in  a 
Northern  city.  He  was  a  blatant  politician  of  the 
prevailing  order,  and  had  been  active  in  drawing  hia 
countrymen  into  the  regiment.     He  was,  therefore, 


ROEBUCK.  213 

patronized  by  some  influential  persons.  He  and  his 
men  had  been  taught  to  look  upon  "  rebels"  as  atro- 
cious criminals,  out  of  the  pale  of  humanity,  and  upon 
their  property  as  lawful  prey.  Some  companies  of 
the  cavalry,  though  composed  of  native  Americans, 
had  similar  notions,  and  their  officers  were  not  unwil- 
ling to  fill  their  pockets,  or  furnish  their  houses,  or 
decorate  their  wives  by  the  pillage  of  their  Southern 
brethren.  Among  the  officers  attached  to  this  force 
was  Albert  Palmer. 

We  left  that"  gentleman,  just  after  the  battle  of 
Manassa,  and  on  the  morning  of  his  duel  with  Baxter, 
deliberating  upon  the  expediency  of  transferring  him- 
self to  the  North.  Having  resolved  that  question  in 
favor  of  his  native  land,  lie  proceeded  on  foot  towards 
Washington,  taking  care  to  avoid  the  parties  of  Con- 
federates who  were  then  to  be  expected  on  his  route. 
The  next  morning  ab^ut  dawn  he  approached  a  Fede- 
ral picket  on  the  Southern  side  of  the  Potomac.  He 
approached  cautiously,  and,  as  it  Avas  thought,  suspi- 
ciously, dressed  in  Confederate  uniform,  and  the  picket 
took  alarm  and  retired.  The  panic  of  Manassa  had 
not  yet  subsided.  A  report  soon  spread  as  far  as  the 
city  of  Washington  that  a  large  rebel  army  was  at  the 
southern  bank  of  the  river  and  produced  great  com- 
motion for  several  hours.  In  the  meantime  Palmer, 
by  skilful  manoeuvres,  contrived  to  get  within  hail  of 
a  Federal  party,  and  made  known  his  friendly  pur- 
pose. A  deserter  from  the  rebel  army,  at  such  a  mo- 
ment, was  received  with  distinguished  consideration. 
Of  course,  he  professed  to  have  been  a  staunch  friend 
of  the  Union  from  the  beginning,  and  told  marvellous 
stories  of  the  persecutions  which  he  had  sutTercd  un- 
til, afl*ecting  to  favor  the  rebel  cause,  he  had  accepted 


214  ROEBUCK. 

employment  in  the  Southern  army,  with  a  view  to 
desert  at  the  earliest  safe  opportunity.  Thus  he  won 
favor,  and  his  efforts  to  ingratiate  himself  Avith  those 
who  had  the  disposal  of  offices  were  seconded  by 
Campbell  after  his  flight  to  the  North.  Thus  he  re- 
turned to  the  county  of  his  residence  an  officer  in  the 
array  which  he  had  gone  forth  to  oppose.  lie  came 
back  Avith  some  particulai*  resentments  to  gratify,  and 
to  some  remains  of  the  original  prejudices  of  a  stran- 
ger by  birth  he  might  add  the  vindictive  zeal  of  a 
renegade  in  regard  to  the  people  of  Virginia- 
Soon  after  Colonel  Tremaine  established  his  head- 
quarters at  the  Swan  travern,  he  was  visited  by  Col- 
onel Fairfax.  The  meeting  between  them,  though  not 
wholly  free  from  constraint,  was  friendly  on  both 
sides.  Colonel  Tremaine  took  occasion  to  repeat  the 
expression  of  his  gratitude  for  hospitality  and  kind- 
ness which,  he  said,  had  probably  saved  his  life.  Col- 
onel Fairfax,  premising  that  his  former  guest  would 
not  expect  him  to  express  pleasure  at  the  establish- 
ment of  a  Federal  force  in  the  county,  added  that, 
since  that  misfortune  could  not  be  averted,  he  was  sin- 
cerely gratified  to  find  Colonel  Tremaine  in  com- 
mand. He  proceeded  to  state  the  special  object  of  his 
visit. 

"  I  desire  to  know  (if  you  think  proper  to  inform 
me)  what  course  you  intend  to  pursue  with  reference 
to  our  unarmed  citizens  who  remain  at  home.  You 
harve  heard  me  express  my  political  opinions.  Tiie 
fortunes  of  war  do  not  change  our  convictions  of 
right.  My  sentiments  are  the  same  as  those  which 
goncrally  prevail  in  the  county.  But  we  acknowl- 
edge the  duties  which  spring  from  adverse  events,  and 
intend  to  perform  them  as,  I  doubt  not,  youi-  duties 
will  be  i^erformed  with  equal  fidelity." 


ROEBUCK.  215 

"  Since  you  allude  to  my  duties,"  replied  Colonel 
Tremaine,  smiling,  "I  would  be  pleased  to  know 
what  duties  you  think  1  owe  to  your  citizens  in  the 
ju-esent  situation  of  affairs  here  V* 

"  Pardon  me,  colonel,  I  am  not  here  to  lecture  you. 
I  intended  only  to  express  courteously  my  confidence 
in  you." 

'•But,  really,  I  desire  to  know  your  opinion.  I 
have  confidence  in  your  fairness  and  your  judgment. 
It  may  be  necessary  for  me  to  understand  the  senti- 
ments of  the  people  in  order  to  determine  how  they 
should  be  treated.  I  believe  that  whatever  you  tell 
me  will  be  true,  and  whatever  you  promise  will  be 
performed.  I  wish  you  to  speak  fi-eely  in  behalf  of 
your  people." 

"  We  know,  Colonel,  that  your  first  duty  is  to  pro- 
mote the  success  of  your  government  in  the  war.  To 
that  end  we  expect  you  to  do  whatever  a  just  and 
humane  man  may  do.  We  expect,  while  you  remain 
in  possession,  to  submit  in  good  faith  to  a  power 
which  we  cannot  resist  and  desire  not  to  irritate :  I 
take  it  for  granted,  that  you  will  refrain  from  harass- 
ing citizens  who  refrain  from  hostile  conduct.  I 
should  think,  if  you  permit  me  to  say  so,  that  it  will 
be  your  duty  to  protect  them,  as  far  as  you  can,  in 
their  homes,  property  and  innocent  avocations. 
Your  force  supersedes  all  other  authority  in  the 
county,  and  it  would  seem  that,  where  submission  is 
a  duty,  protection  is  a  right." 

"  I  believe  we  shall  not  quarrel,  Colonel  Fairfax,  if 
your  citizens  act  in  the  spirit  which  you  attribute  to 
them.  I  cannot  make  explicit  stipulations  with  you. 
I  must  reserve  the  free  exercise  of  discretionary 
authority.     For  the  present  tell  your  people  to  trust 


216  ROEBUCK. 

me  and  I  will  trust  them.  I  shall  issue  such  regula- 
tions as  I  deem  necessaiy  to  be  observed  on  their 
part.  Some  of  them  will  be  strict  and  may  appear 
unreasonable.  I  cannot  publish  the  reasons  for  them. 
But,  if  you  make  allowance  for  the  harsh  necessities 
of  war,  I  believe  you  will  consider  me  both  just  and 
humane.  I  shall  expect  obedience  to  my  regulations 
at  all  events.  If  any  of  my  men  insult  or  pillage  or 
oppress  the  citizens,  let  those  who  are  wronged  apply 
to  me  for  redress." 

After  some  further  conversation,  in  which  an  invita- 
tion was  given  and  accepted  to  visit  Roebuck,  Colonel 
Fairfax  retired.  The  next  day  Mr.  Palmer  called  on 
Colonel  Tremaine.  Notwithstanding  his  son  had  so 
openly  appeared  in  the  Federal  service,  that  cautious 
gentleman  still  hesitated  to  offend  his  neighbors  by  a 
precipitate  display  of  Union  sentiments.  He  did  not 
call  on  the  commander  of  the  Federal  force  in  the  vil- 
lage until  he  heard  that  so  conspicuous  a  rebel  as 
Colonel  Fah-fax  had  visited  him.  Even  in  conversing 
with  Colonel  Tremaine  he  rather  insinuated  at  first 
than  avowed  his  adhesion  to  the  cause  represented 
by  that  officer.  But  by  degrees  he  led  the  conversa- 
tion to  political  topics  and  to  the  affairs  of  the  county, 
and  broached  some  opinions  for  the  guidance  of  the 
colonel.  He  represented  the  citizens  of  the  county  as, 
almost  without  exception,  uncompromising  rebels. 
He  complained,  especially,  that  the  wealthy  gentlemen 
devoted  their  riches  to  the  support  of  the  rebellion. 
Glancing  at  Colonel  Fairfax,  he  said  that  one  of  the 
most  prominent  of  that  class  had,  during  the  past 
year,  devoted  the  whole  of  his  large  revenue  and  valu- 
able croj^s  to  the  support  of  the  Confederate  cause  or 
to  the  families  of  soldiers,  and  had  induced  the  county 


ROEBUCK.  217 

court  to  make  such  liberal  contributions  that  those 
families  lived  in  greater  abundance  than  they  had 
known  before  the  war.  He  thought  that  such  power- 
ful stimulants  of  rebellion  ought  to  be  suppressed  by 
depriving  the  wealthy  rebels  of  their  property.  He 
suggested  that  their  estates  might  be  administered 
under  military  rule  for  the  benefit  of  the  government- 
As  Colonel  Tremaine  listened  in  silence  to  the  long 
and  winding  discourse  in  -which  he  cautiously  devel- 
oped these  ideas,  he  even  ventured  to  intimate  that  he 
was  willing  to  administer  those  estates.  At  length 
he  paused,  and  the  colonel  observed : 

"  I  suppose  the  gentlemen  to  whom  you  allude  have 
been  generously  supporting  a  cause  which  they  hon- 
estly approve." 

"  I  do  not  perceive,  however,  that  their  honesty 
makes  their  conduct  defensible." 

"  Would  you  expect  honest  men  to  support  a  cause 
which  they  believe  to  be  wrong  V 

Mr.  Palmer  winced  at  the  question,  for  he  suspected 
that  it  was  a  hint  at  some  meagre  contributions  which 
he  had  made  to  the  Confederate  cause.  But,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  he  replied : 

"We  have  to  deal  with  effects  rather  than 
motives." 

"  It  is  a  fact,  however,  worthy  of  observation,  that 
nearly  all  the  honest  men  of  the  South  appear  to  be 
against  us  in  this  struggle.  In  proportion  as  they 
scorn  sordid  interests,  in  comparison  with  high  princi- 
ple, appears  to  be  their  zeal  for  the  Southern  cause. 
They  evince,  too,  in  supporting  rebellion,  generous 
sentiments — sentiments  Avhich  we  would  certainly 
applaud  if  we  could  approve  their  cause." 

"Do  you,  then,  justify  the  rebels'?" 


218  ROEBUCK. 

"  Far  from  it.  For  many  reasons  the  public  "wel- 
fare, in  my  judgment,  requires  the  rebellion  to  be  sup- 
pressed. For  that  purpose  I  liave  used  my  sword  and 
risked  my  life.  But  our  government  is  not  now  deal- 
ing with  a  rabble  of  rioters  or  a  mob  of  desperate  and 
wicked  insurgents.  Already  for  a  whole  year  it  ha>s 
been  carrying  on  a  vast  war  against  great  communi- 
ties, constituting  powerful  States  and  embracing  most 
of  the  worth  and  wisdom  of  the  South.  These 
communities  have  acted  in  the  exercise  of  a  right 
which  they  have  been  educated  to  believe  is  inherent 
in  their  States.  They  act  through  their  ancient  State 
governments  and  through  a  new  government  formally 
organized.  They  cany  on  regular  war  with  large 
ai-mies.  If  we  treat  this  as  a  case  of  simj^le  rebellion 
we  shall  fall  into  a  ihtal  follacy.  It  is  war-r-civil  war. 
All  history  proves  that  in  such  wars  it  is  equally 
unwise  and  unjust  for  one  party  to  treat  the  other  as 
criminals.  Civil  wars  usually  divide  a  nation  and 
S|iring  from  political  questions  about  which  honest 
citizens  honestly  differ.  They  are  so  doubtful  that  a 
large  portion  of  the  nation  is  found  on  the  one  side 
and  on  the  other.  Frailty,  passion  or  eiTor  of  one 
party  or  of  both,  brings  them  to  blows.  Each  believes 
its  conduct  to  be  patriotic.  Without  criminal  purpose 
how  can  there  be  crime  ?  It  is  a  case  of  war  which 
courts  cannot  adjudicate  and  for  which  laws  cannot  pro 
vide.  There  is  no  arbiter  between  the  parties  to  a  war 
but  the  sword.  The  sword  is  senseless  and  decides  no 
question  of  right.  It  determines  only  the  preponder- 
ance of  force.  It  is  absurd  then  for  either  party  to 
accuse  the  otljer  of  crime." 

"  At  all  events,  colonel,  you  must  admit  the  pro- 
priety of  taking  from  the  rebels  the  means  of  support- 
ing the  rebellion." 


ROEBUCK.  219 

"  Let  mc  answer  you  in  the  language  attributed  by 
tke  most  renowned  author  in  our  language  to  his  favor- 
ite hero.  We  give  express  charge  that,  in  our  marches 
through  the  country,  there  be  nothing  compelled  from 
the  villages,  nothing  taken  but  paid  for,  none  of  the 
French  upbraided  or  abused  in  disdainful  language ; 
for  when  lenity  and  cruelty  play  for  a  kingdom  the 
gentler  gamester  is  the  soonest  winner." 

"  According  to  your  ideas,  nobody  should  be  pun- 
ished for  this  rebellion  after  it  is  suppressed." 

"  War  should  end  in  peace,  not  punishment.  Pun- 
ishment then  is  the  revenge  of  victors  upon  the  van- 
quished, of  the  powerful  upon  the  defenceless.  As  we 
shorten  war  by  making  submission  safe  we  shall  con- 
firm peace  by  making  it  honorable.  A  civil  war, 
being  between  brethren,  should,  if  possible,  end  like 
the  quarrel  of  Brutus  and  Cassius  on  the  stage,  in  a 
rivalry  of  loving  penitance.  But,  since  we  cannot 
expect  such  a  romantic  revulsion  of  the  passions  of 
war,  we  may  at  least  remember  that,  if  submission  is 
the  duty  of  the  conquered,  magnanimity  is  the  virtue  of 
conquerors.  The  offence  is  the  oiBfence  of  a  commu- 
nity ;  war  and  defeat  are  the  punishments  of  a  commu- 
nity. Among  millions  of  people  engaged  in  resistance, 
human  judgment  cannot  discriminate  and  assign  to 
each  his  peculiar  share  of  blame.  We  must  deal  with 
the  community." 

"  It  is  easy  to  discriminate  between  the  leaders  and 
the  rest." 

"  If  that  were  true,  why  should  we  take  vengeance 
on  the  best,  the  chosen  men  of  a  people,  and  let  those 
who  have  chosen  them  go  free  V 

"I  cannot  imagine,  colonel,  how  you  propose  to 
assert  the  supremacy  of  the  government  and  dispose 
of  the  rebels." 


220  noEBUClC. 

"  Suppress  arnied  resistaiice  by  the  most  \ngoroiig 
measures — establish  again  the  laws  of  peaceful  society 
— and  trust  the  defeated  party  as  a  party  of  honest, 
but  mistaken  citizens.  I  am  confident  that  when  its 
military  power  is  broken,  the  South  w^ill  submit,  and 
once  submitting,  will  frankly  fulfil  the  duties  of  its 
new  position.  I  believe  that  the  South  will  always  be 
true  to  its  ancient  instincts  of  frankness  and  manly 
honor." 

"  I  am  glad  that,  at  least,  you  speak  of  the  submis- 
sion of  the  South." 

"  Yes  ;  submission  to  lawful  authority,  not  to  dis- 
honor. That  I  could  never  requh*e.  I  wish  to  see 
the  people  of  the  South  remain  my  countrymen,  and 
I  desire  no  dishonored  men  for  my  countrymen." 

"  What  guaranties  can  you  have  that  rebellion  will 
not  be  renewed,  unless  you  inflict  punishment  and 
strip  these  people  of  power  ?" 

"  Unless  the  might  of  armies,  the  awe  of  defeat,  the 
experience  of  war,  and  a  restoration  of  fraternal  feel- 
ing shall  bind  the  people  to  the  government,  the  blood 
of  their  martyrs  will  not  cement  the  Union,  nor  will 
the  desperation  of  poverty  and  disgrace  make  men 
quiet  citizens.  \Ye  may  compel  them  to  submit  by 
force ;  if  we  would  have  them  loyal  at  heart,  we  must 
win  their  hearts." 

"Ah,  colonel,  you  do  not  know  their  bitterness. 
But  you  must  have  heard  Doctor  Dick  Faufax  at 
Roebuck." 

"  Yes ;  when  I  heard  his  invectives  against  the 
North — though  they  seemed  to  be  spoken  half  in  a 
spirit  of  waspish  jest — I  listened  always  with  pain  and 
sometimes  with  indignation.  I  suppose  his  virulence 
is  an  exaggerated  specimen  of  the  antipathy  engen- 


ROEBUCK.  221 

clcred  m  the  minds  of  the  Southern  people  by  our  un- 
happy controversies.  When  I  heard  him  I  thought 
of  those  Northern  fanatics  and  demagogues,  who,  by 
the  injustice  of  their  conduct  and  language  respecting 
the  South,  had  excited  such  enmity  in  a  heart  which 
I  found  otherwise  amiable  and  generous.  If  we,  as 
the  stronger  section,  provoke  resentments  and  then 
punish  them,  we  are  doubly  unjust.  But,  Mr.  Palmer, 
we  have  wandered  into  a  discussion  of  questions 
which  we  have  not  to  decide.  It  would  have  been 
enough  to  say  that  I  do  not  intend  to  deprive  the 
citizens  of  their  property  unless  it  may  be  taken  from 
necessity,  and  in  accordance  with  the  rules  and  usages 
of  civilized  warfare." 

'•  I  must  confess,  sir,  that  you  appear  to  be  luke- 
warm in  the  great  cause." 

"  When  you  have  shed  your  blood  for  the  Union 
you  may  reproach  me.     Good  morning,  su*." 

"  You  are  very  attentive  to  the  rights  of  rebels." 

"  All  men  have  the  rights  of  humanity.  Do  you 
require  me  to  teach  you  that  I  have  the  rights  of  a 
gentleman  1  Once  more,  I  bid  you  good  morning, 
sir." 

Mr.  Palmer  did  not  wait  for  another  repetition  of 
the  hint,  but  retired. 

Under  the  mild  and  firm  administration  of  Colonel 
Tremaine,  the  county  was  quiet.  Disorders  were  re- 
pressed. The  citizens  soon  felt  almost  the  same  se- 
curity as  in  time  of  peace.  Those  who  had  fled  re- 
turned. The  people  instead  of  invoking  the  Confede- 
rates to  attack  the  Federal  force  at  the  village  for 
their  relief,  deprecated  the  approach  of  Confederate 
troops.  They  wanted  repose.  Some  of  them,  weary 
of  war,  began  to  repent  their  separation  from  a  gov- 


22^  ROEBUCK. 

crnment  which  showed  itself  benignant  in  the  con- 
duct of  its  officer.  Perhaps,  if  a  similar  policy  had 
been  pursued  everywhere  during  the  war,  the  predic- 
tion of  Doctor  Fairfax  that  the  South  would  not 
maintain  the  struggle  more  than  two  years,  might 
have  been  fulfilled. 

But  the  conduct  of  Colonel  Tremaine  was  censured 
by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Wesel,  and  some  others  of  the 
command.  They  chafed  under  the  restraints  of  discip- 
line. Their  passions  demanded  licence.  Mr.  Palmer 
also,  and  his  son,  were  disappointed  and  offended. 
An  intrigue  was  hatched  for  the  removal  of  Colonel 
Tremaine  from  the  command.  He  was  accused  of 
inertness,  of  cruelty  to  his  men,  of  indulgence  to 
rebels.  It  was  insinuated  that  he  felt  a  criminal  giw 
titude  for  the  kindness  which  he  had  received  as  a 
wounded  prisoner.  It  was  observed  that  he  dined 
with  a  noted  rebel,  and  listened  on  Sunday  to  a  ser- 
mon delivered  by  an  old  preacher,  who  was  known  to 
sympathize  with  his  fellow-citizens  in  their  trials.  It 
was  alleged  that  he  would  neither  force  nor  entice 
servants  away  from  their  masters.  In  fine,  it  was 
concluded  that  he  sympathized  with  the  rebellion. 
At  length  this  intrigue  was  successful.  Colonel  Tre- 
maine was  ordered  to  Washington  to  answer  for  his 
conduct,  and  Wesel,  promoted  to  the  rank  of  colonel, 
was  left  in  command,  with  ample  authority  to  scourge 
the  spirit  of  secession  from  the  county.  Then  com- 
menced a  new  administration  of  a  different  order. 


ROEBUCK.  223 


CHAPTER  XX. 

GABRIEI^ 

The  savage  and  futile  policy  of  reducing  the  South 
to  submission  by  destroying  provisions  and  imple- 
ments of  husbandry,  and  by  converting  the  land  into 
a  barren  waste,  had  not  yet  been  formally  avowed  by 
high  authority.  It  was  executed  in  particular  places 
with  more  or  less  ferocity,  according  to  the  temper  of 
each  commander.  Those  who  were  prone  to  that 
mode  of  warfare  derived  sufficient  encouragement 
from  the  orders  excluding  medicines  from  the  South, 
and  other  acts  of  the  government,  denying  to  the 
Soutliern  people  those  rights  of  humanity  which  are 
conceded  to  enemies  by  the  usages  of  civilized  war- 
fare. Such  atrocities  received  no  countenance  from 
Colonel  Tremaine,  but  they  suited  the  temperament 
of  his  successor. 

During  the  first  two  years  of  the  war,  discipline  in 
the  vast  armies  of  the  North  was  less  perfect  than  it 
afterwards  became.  Small  bodies,  detached  from  the 
main  armies,  soon  became  very  disordei-ly  and  lawless, 
unless  controlled  by  a  firm  and  judicious  officer.  In 
a  short  time,  the  force  under  Colonel  Wesel  became 
little  better  than  a  licentious  rabble.  At  first  the 
baser  sort  of  men,  sweepings  of  streets,  brawlers  and 
bruisers  at  home,  became  drunken,  thievish  and 
riotous.  Their  impunity,  and  the  contagion  of  vice, 
corrupted  otl/ers.  Many  men,  not  thoroughly  vicious, 
require  the  cm'b  of  military  discipline  when  they  are 


224  ROEBUCK. 

exempt  from  tlic  gentle  but  constant  restraints  of  civil 
society.  Towards  the  citizens  the  -demeanor  of  tlio 
colonel  was  so  brutal  that  his  worst  men  were  en- 
couraged to  indulge  tlieii*  worst  passions.  Thus,  un- 
der his  orders,  or  through  the  licentious  effects  of  his 
administi'ation,  the  county  was  given  up  to  pillage 
and  oppression.  All  horses  were  captured  as  legitimate 

/  prizes.  Cows,  sheep  and  swine,  were  killed  in  A>^n-, 
tonness.  Mills  and  barns  were  burned.  Fences  were 
destroyed.  Dwellings  were  entered  and  ransacked 
by  night  or  day ;  private  papers  found  in  them,  were 
torn  and  scattered  ;  clothing  of  women  and  children 
was  rent  to  ribbons,  or  caiTied  off;  jewelry  wa^ 
rudely  \\Tenched  from  the  persons  of  ladies,  and  fami- 
lies were  put  in  terror  of  death  or  a  fate  worse  than 
death.     Farming  implements,  food  and  forage   were 

I  systematically  destroyed  or  removed.  Men  were  in- 
sulted, and  upon  the  slightest  show  of  resentment 
shot  down.  The  slaves  were  persuaded,  and,  in  some 
cases,  compelled  to  leave  their  homes.  Tiie  men 
were  drawn  to  the  camp  as  servants,  or  suffered  to 
roam  about  and  live  by  pillage.  The  women,  easily 
corrupted,  were  kept  by  the  soldiei*s  in  sties  about  the 
village,  or  wandered  they  l^ew  not  whither.  Many 
of  the  servants  deserted  Roebuck,  charmed  with  the 
idea  of  freedom.  ^  Negroes,  parasites  by  nature,  cling 
to  the  strongest  power  that  stands  near  them./  How 
ever  absurd  the  notions  which  they  associate  with  lib- 
erty, exemption,  from  compulsory  labor  has  a  special 
charm  for  the  indolent  and  thoughtless  creatures. 
Credulous  and  servile,  they  were  easily  deluded  and 
led  away  by  men  ^vho  belonged  to  the  race  they  were^ 
accustomed  to  revere,  and  who  came  with  professions 
of  exclusive  fi'iendship  for  them.     They  could  not  re- 


ROEBUCK.         .  225 

jcct  a  boon  offered  by  a  subtle  tempter,  promising  that 
it  should  make  them  to  be  as  gods,  notwithstanding 
the  decree  of  nature  forbidding  this  fruit  of  freedom 
to  their  race  on  pain  of  death. 

Mr.  Palmer,  it  may  be  remembered,  had  reserved 
from  sale  a  negro '  man,  named  Gabe,  who  was  ex- 
pected to  be  kept  at  home  by  a  stupid  contentment 
with  his  lot  or  a  stolid  incapacity  to  compass  another. 
Wlien  some  of  his  Northern  patrons,  rambling  from 
the  village,  plied  him  with  temj^tation,  his  woolly 
head  was  profoundly  perplexed.  The  novel  thought 
of  running  away  from  Ins  master,  after  it  once  ob- 
tained a  lodgment  in  his  brain,  stuck  fast,  but  he  did 
not  know  what  to  do  with  it.  He  went  moping  and 
stumbling  about  in  woful  contemplation,  until  at 
length  he  arrived  at  a  conclusion  which  he  expressed 
to  himself  in  the  formula — "  I's  a  thinkin'  I  better  be 
a  gwine."  Greatly  relieved  by  the  resolution  of  his 
doubts,  he  kept  muttering  his  formula,  as  if  he  feared 
that  unless  he  kept  the  words  in  his  mouth  the  idea 
would  fly  out  of  his  head.  For  several  days  he  sat, 
or  walked,  or  worked,  with  constant  repetition  of  the 
sentence — "  I's  a  thinkin'  I  better  be  a  gwine."  Some 
knowledge  of  his  frame  of  mind  reached  his  master 
and  mistress,  and  they  began  to  fear  they  would  lose 
their  only  man-servant  through  the  officious  kindness 
of  their  Northern  friends. 

One  evening  this  subject,  among  others,  engaged 
the  attention  of  a  family  council  held  in  the  parlor — 
present,  jNIi*.  Palmer,  Mi-s.  Palmer  and  their  son, 
Albert.  It  was  agreed  that,  under  existing-  circum- 
stances, Gabe  could  not  be  detained  by  force,  and 
that  it  would  be  dangerous  to  attempt  to  spirit  him 
away  to  a  slave-market.     It  seemed  almost  certain 

10* 


22G  .ROEBUCK. 

that  lie  would  prove  a  total  loss.  This  prospect  ma  le 
them  for  the  moment  regard  the  proceedings  ot  a 
benign  government  as  rather  oppressive.  At  last  a 
desperate  expedient  occurred  to  Mr.  Palmer  the  elder. 
He' rang  the  bell  and  summoned  Gabe  to  the  parlor. 

"  Gabe,"  said  he,  with  solemnity,  "  I  am  afraid  you 
are  thinking  about  running  away  to  the  Yankees." 

"Ts  a  thinkin'  I  better  be  a  gwine,  master,"  re- 
sponded Gabe,  in  his  welUconned  formula,  without 
insolence  of  manner,  but  with  stolid  apathy. 

"  Gabriel,"  resumed  his  master,  with  impressive 
condescension,  "you  ought  not  to  go.  You  are  a 
poor,  ignorant  nigger,  and  you  do  not  know  what  is 
for  your  good.  I  have  enly  your  own  welfare  at 
heart.  You  have  now  a  good  home.  If  you  run 
away  you  will  have  none.  These  Yankees  ai-e  fooling 
you.  They  care  nothing  about  you.  They  merely 
want  to  injure  the  South  by  taking  away  its  labor.  I 
take  care  of  your  family.  You  and  they  fare  better 
than  poor  white  folks  at  the  North.  You  are  going 
to  leave  friends  and  protectors  for  strangers.  Nobody 
will  feel  any  interest  in  your  welfare.  Everybody 
will  strive  to  take  bread  out  of  your  mouth  to  feed 
themselves.  You  cannot  compete  with  white  labor- 
ers among  white  employers.  In  fact,  you  know  you 
won't  work  without  a  master.  You  will  let  your 
children  perish.  You  will  be  a  beggar,  an  outcast,  a 
vagabond.  Take  my  word  for  it,  if  you  trust  these 
Yankees  you  will  rue  it  as  long  as  you  live.  Now 
will  you  i-un  away,  Gabriel "?" 

"  I's  a  thinkin'  I  better  be  a  gwine,"  answered  Gabe, 
as  before. 

"  Gabriel,  you  will  commit  a  grievous  sin.  You 
would  not  go  against  the  Bible,  would  you?    I  will 


ROEBUCK.  227 

expound  your  duty  to  you  out  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.'* 
Taking  up  the  Book  and  drawing  his  spectacles 
down  upon  his  nose,  Mr.  Palmer  proceeded  to  read 
and  expound  some  selected  passages,  while  Gabe 
stood  before  him,  twisting  a  button  and  perusing  the 
carpet. 

"  Ileal'  now,"  he  continued,  "  what  is  commanded 
in  the  twenty-fifth  chapter  of  Leviticus — '  Botli  tliy 
bondmen  and  thy  bondmaids ' — that  means  our  slaves, 
Gabriel — 'which  thou  shalt  have,  shall  be  of  the 
heathen  that  are  i*ound  about  you  ;  of  them  shall  ye 
buy  bondmen  and  bondmaids.  Moreover  of  the  chil- 
di*en  of  the  strangers  that  do  sojourn  among  you,  of 
them  shall  ye  buy  and  of  their  families  tl^at  are  with 
you  which  they  begat  in  your  land  :  and  they  shall  be 
your  possession.  And  ye  shall  take  them  as  an  in- 
heritance for  your  children  after  you,  to  inherit  them 
for  a  possessioH  ;  they  shall  be  your  bondmen  forever.' 
Now,  Gabriel,  your  forefathers  were  heathen,  you 
know,  and  so  the  white  people  were  commanded  to 
buy  them  for  slaves,  and  to  hold  them  and  their  chil- 
dren as  a  i^ossession  forever.  My  forefathers  in  New 
England  bought  many  of  them,  and  made  great  gains 
by  them,  which  proved  that  their  trade  was  blessed. 
When  slavery  became  unprofitable  in  New  England, 
whereby  k  appeai*ed  that  the  institution  was  no 
longer  blessed  there,  they  sold  their  slaves  to  the 
Southern  people,  with  advantage  to  all  parties.  So 
my  ancestors  again  had  golden  experience  that  godli- 
ness is  great  gain,  and  they  have  continued  to  be  a 
godly  and  a  gainful  people  to  this  very  day.  The 
I)assage  I  have  read  requires  the  slaves  to  be  an  in- 
heritance for  the  children  of  the  masters.  1  did  not 
receive  you  by  inheritance,  but  New  England  men 


228  ROEBUCK. 

cfin,  by  the  Divine  blessing,  obtain  the  inheritance  of 
the  children  of  Yirgmia  as  Jacob  got  the  birthright 
of  Esau  by  substituting  kid  for  venison.  Thus  it  is 
proved  out-  of  Scriptui-e,  Gabe,  that  you  must^  stay 
with  me.  What  confirms  this  interpretation  is  that 
the  institution  of  slavery  in  the  South  has  been 
blessed  Avith  wonderful  usefulness  to  mankind.  While 
the  slaves  multiply  and  thrive,  they  have  added  more 
to  the  wealth,  comfort  and  civilization  of  the  world, 
by  tillage,  than  any  other  equal  number  of  laborers 
ever  did  in  the  same  length  of  time.  You  know  they 
never  would  have  done  all  this  work  if  they  had  been 
free,  and  you  know  that  white  men  could  not  have 
done  it.  So  it  is  the  will  of  God,  Gabriel,  that  you 
shall  not  run  away  to  the  Yankees.  Do  you  under- 
stand ?" 

"  I's  a  thinkin'  I  better  be  a  gwine.'* 

"  Xow,  my  good  and  faithful  sei*vant,  let  me  read 
to  you  what  Saint  Paul  says — '  Exhort  servants  to  be 
obedient  unto  their  own  masters  and  to  please  them 
well  in  all  things  ;  not  answering  again  ;  not  purloin- 
ing but  showing  all  good  fidelity ' — that  means  you 
must  stay  with  me,  Gabriel — and  again,  '  Let  as  many 
as  are  under  the  yoke  count  their  oavu  masters  worthy 
of  all  honor.  *  *  *  And  they  that  have  believing 
masters' — like  iiie,  Gabriel — 'let  them  not  despise 
them  because  they  are  brethren  but  rather  do  them 
service ' — mark  that,  Gabriel,  do  them  service.  Now 
will  you  fly  in  the  face  of  Scriptm'e  V* 

"  I's  a  thinkin'  I  better  be  a  gwine." 

"  Poor  Gabriel,  I  fear  yom*  understanding  is  dark 
and  youi*  heart  hardened.  Perhaps  we  may  obtain 
light  to  dkect  your  steps,  or  to  stop  them,  by  prayer. 
Let  us  pray." 


ROEBUCK.  229 

lie  knelt  down,  as  did  also  liis  wife  ami  son.  Gabe, 
who  had  been  taught,  not  to  pray,  but  to  stand,  in 
the  presence  of  his  betters,  and  who  did  not  under- 
stand that  he  had  been  ordered  to  kneel,  remained  in 
his  erect  posture.  He  twisted  his  button  and  perused 
the  carpet,  shifting  his  weight  from  one  foot  to  the 
other,  while  his  lips  moved,  not  in  prayer,  but  in 
repetition  of  his  fugitive  formula.  His  master  prayed 
very  earnestly,  in  a  manner  which  he  thought  must 
impress  the  mind  and  melt  the  heart  of  his  servant. 
Then  he  paused,  and  casting  his  eyes  on  Gabe,  dis- 
covered that  he  was  still  standing. 

"  How  is  your  mind  now,  Gabriel  f  he  inquired. 

"  I's  a  thinkin'  I  better  be  a  gwine." 

"  Kneel  down,  Gabriel." 

Gabe  obeyed.  He  crossed  his  arms  over  the  bot- 
tom of  a  chair  and  laid  his  forehead  upon  them.  The 
prayer  was  resumed  with  increasing  fervor.  It  be- 
came so  eloquent,  unctuous  and  importunate  that 
Mrs.  Palmer  was  moved  to  sigh,  and  then  to  groan, 
and  finally  to  respond  audibly  Amen  and  Amen. 
Again  pausing,  Mr.  Palmer  turned  to  his  bondman, 
bought  with  his  money,  and  said — "  how  do  you  feel 
now,  Gabriel  V 

"  I's  a  thinkin'  I  better  be  a  gwine,"  muttered  Gabe. 

"Good  God!"  exclaimed  his  master,  bouncing  to 
his  feet,  "  have  we  a  government  that  will  not  protect 
our  property '?" 

Mrs.  Palmer  and  Albert  also  rose,  but  Gabe  re- 
mained kneeling,  with  his  face  upon  his  arms,  and 
his  arms  upon  the  chair.  His  mistress,  gazing  at  him 
a  moment  with  rising  scorn,  >hen  strode  with  rectan- 
gular solemnity  to  his  side,  and  stretching  out  her 
arm  over  his  head,  thus  addressed  him : 

"  Ut  tUf  Brute — ungrateful  nigger — nigroque  simil- 


230  ROEBUCK. 

lima  cycno— after  all  Ave  have  done  for  you — we  might 
have  sold  you  with  the  rest — we  might  now  have  the 
money  in  our  pockets — you  will  run  away,  will  you — 
what 'black  ingratitude — who  would  believe  it — rredat 
Jt'dans  Apella — I'll  never  trust  a  nigger  again^ — go 
then — run,  starve,  beg,  steal,  die,  rot — go  this  night 
— don't  sleep  again  under  this  roof — and  mind,  don't 
steal  anything  when  you  go — t^ke  off  that  suit  and 
put  on  your  old  clothes — obey  me  or  I'll  have  you 
v/hi)-)ped — I  hope  you'll  rue  this  hour  in  want  and  woe 
to  the  end  of  your  days — begone,  you  black  rascal, 
begone." 

But  Gabe  did  not  rise.  He  was  fast  asleep.  As 
soon  as  his  head  rested  on  a  chair  slumber  began  to 
creep  over  him.  "When  his  master  addressed  him  he 
was  partially  aroused,  and  muttered  his  well-conned 
response  between  asleep  and  awake.  Under  the 
monotonous  declamation  of  Mrs.  Palmer  he  lost  all 
consciousness.  After  the  close  of  her  address  his  only 
reply  was  a  sonorous  sriore.  Albert,  discovering  the 
truth  of  the  case,  and  being  himself  cool  enough  to 
feel  the  ridicule  of  the  situation,  quietly  approached 
Gabe,  and  laying  a  hand  on  his  shoulder,  woke  him. 
Gabe  leaped  up  and  looked  about  him  with  amazement. 

"Begone!"  said  his  old  master. 

"  I's  a  thinkin'  I  better  be  a  gwine." 

Gabe  hustled  out  of  the  parlor  with  less  servile  cer- 
emony than  he  had  been  accustomed  to  display  in 
retiring  from  the  presence. 

.  The  family  council,  resuming  its  session,  discussed 
various  topics,  and  among  them  the  Fairfaxes  of  Roe- 
buck came  under  consideration.  The  course  and  con- 
clusion of  the  consultation  respecting  that  family  need 
not  now  be  stated.     So  far  as  results  followed  from  it, 


ROEBUCK.  231 

of  interest  to  the  reader,  they  will  appear  in  the 
sequel.  While  the  name  of  Fairfax  was  yet  upon 
their  lips  the  signal  of  blind  Pete  was  heard,  and  he 
was  admitted.  He  came  to  report  that  Colonel  Fitz- 
hngh  was  spending  the  night  at  Roebuck.  Albert 
Palmer,  eager  to  avail  himself  of  the  information, 
mounted  his  horse,  and  after  giving  an  order  to  Pete, 
rode  to  the  village. 

Pete's  clandestine  information  was  so  far  correct 
that  Hugh  Fitzhugh  visited  Roebuck  that  night,  but 
left  there  before  Albert  Palmer  could  have  arrived  at 
the  village.  Going  Avith  his  regiment  upon  an  expe- 
dition, he  passed  near  Roebuck  in  the  night.  While 
the  regiment  halted  for  a  brief  rest  he  rode  off  with  a 
small  escort  to  visit  Colonel  Fairfax,  and  ascertain 
from  him  whether  the  rumors  were  true  which 
he  had  heard  of  the  outi-ages  committed  upon  the 
people  of  the  county.  After  conversing  with  the 
colonel  upon  that  subject,  he  indulged  himself  with  a 
brief  delay,  to  talk  with  Julia  upon  a  subject  of  more 
tender  interest  to  them  than  to  the  public.  Then, 
while  he  lingered  yet  a  little  longer,  conversation 
turned  upon  the  desolation  of  Virginia  a»d  the  suffer- 
ing of  her  people.  A  large  portion  of  the  State  was 
ah-eady  ravaged  and  devastated.  The  flower  of  her 
youth  and  manhood  had  been  cut  down  by  thousands. 
From  the  first  to  the  last  hour  of  the  war  the  blood  of 
the  State  flowed  in  torrents,  and  in  all  her  borders  it 
seemed  that  nothing  could  stand  erect  under  the  in- 
cessant storm  of  war  but  her  unconquerable  spirit. 
Those  who  then  fondly  protracted  a  hurried  conversa- 
tion, to  deplore  the  afflictions  of  their  beloved  Com- 
monwealth, could  not  foresee  that  they  would  never 
meet  again  under  the  roof  of  Roebuck.     They  knew 


232  ROEBUCK. 

not  the  ruin  that  was  yet  hidden  in  the  darkness  of 
that  very  night.  Happy  ignorance  of  the  future! 
They  had  fortitude  to  bear  the  ills  which  they  had 
known,  but  who  could  endure  a  knowledge  of  the 
time  to  come?  Fitzhugh  took  leave  of  Colonel  Fair^ 
ftix  and  Mrs.  Fairfax  with  words  of  cheerful  anticipa- 
tiouj  and  in  accents  that  became  sad,  in  spite  of  his 
efforts  to  cheer  their  hearts,  he  was  about  to  bid  fare- 
well to  Julia.  He  paused  and  said,  "My  dearest 
Julia,  I  must  carry  with  me  the  memory  of  your  sweet 
voice  in  song.  Sing  one  song  for  me  before  I  leave 
you."  At  such  a  moment  her  voice  could  not  be 
quite  free  from  the  tremulous  effect  of  her  emotion,  but 
she,  too,  was  exerting  herself  to  lighten  the  sadness 
of  hearts  she  loved,  and  not  j^ermitting  her  tones  to 
betray  her  heart  too  plainly,  she  sung  a  song — 

VIRGINIA. 

Virginia  bleeds  and  weeps  for  woo 

But  feels  no  touch  of  shame ; 
Beneath  eclipse  her  glories  glow 

With  undiminished  flame. 
A  virgin  queen  with  laurel  crown, 

A  sovereign  of  the  free, 
She  vows  to  trample  tyrants  down 

And  bleeds  for  liberty. 

ISTot  always  thus  shall  droop  her  head, 

She  will  rejoice  again : 
Ko  blood  so  pure  for  freedom  shed 

Was  ever  shed  in  vain. 
An  altar  every  battle-field 

On  which  her  sous  have  died — 
Its  smoke,  like  incense,  has  appealed 

Where  right  is  ne'er  denied. 


ROEBUCK.  233 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

BUSHWHACKING    AT    ROEBUCK. 

Among  the  Federal  officers  at  the  villao^e  was  Cap- 
tain Dakin,  who  led  a  company  of  marauding  cavalry. 
He  was  active,  daring,  cruel  and  treacherous.  He 
was  a  favorite  instrument  of  Colonel  Wesel  in  ex- 
ecuting all  plans  of  bold  adventure  or  nithless  re- 
venge. By  virtue  of  a  round,  red  ince,  a  jolly  laugli, 
and  a  fondness  for  the  bottle,  he  was  called  a  good 
fellow.  The  licence  which  he  allowed  to  his  men 
made  him  popular  among  them.  He  had  been  a 
preacher.  After  wearing  out  religion  as  a  theme  of 
popular  eloquence,  lie  took  to  preaching  politics  from 
the  pulpit.  The  political  agitation  of  the  day  was  the 
controversy  between  the  North  and  South,  and  that, 
curiously  enough,  turned  mainly  upon  Soutliern 
slavery,  which  excited  no  dissension  where  it  existed, 
but  offended  the  North,  where  it  was  unknoAvn.  The 
pretext  for  introducing  it  into  the  sacred  desk,  and 
beating  tlie  "  drum  ecclesiastic"  for  recruits  in  the 
political  warfare  of  the  North  against  the  South,  was 
tliat  slavery  was  a  sin.  From  the  exclusive  attention 
given  to  it,  the  reverend  gentleman's  hearers  might 
have  concluded  that  it  was  the  only  sin  extant,  and, 
consequently,  that  those  who  were  free  from  it  were 
saints.  It  was  so  atrocious  a  crime,  that  the  preacher 
in  denouncing  slave-holders,  danced  in  the  pulpit  with 
sacred  fmy.     The  sentiments  which  foamed  from  hia 


2.04  ROEBUCK. 

lips  were  unearthly.  A  mortcal  who  has  not  been  in 
Heaven,  dares  not  affirm  with  confidence  that  they 
were  Heavenly.  But  it  may  be  presumed  that  there 
is  a  Avorld  above  or  below  us  in  which  they  might 
take  their  origin.  As  all  his  hearers  were  free  from 
the  guilt  which  he  denounced,  his  denunciations  may 
appear  to  have  been  superfluous ;  but  they  had  tlie 
happy  effect  of  cultivating  in  the  hearts  of  his  congre-  * 
gation  a  comfortable  sense  of  their  own  perfection  in 
comparison  with  those  distant  sinners,  together  with 
a  holy  hatred  of  those  reprobates.  Besides,  they 
swelled  a  certain  volume  of  votes.  Ambitious  to  ex- 
tend the  sphere  of  his  usefulness,  or  preferring  the 
applause  of  a  multitude  to  the  still  decorum  of  a 
church,  this  clergj-nian  turned  street-preaeher.  From 
porticos  of  public  buildings,  or  from  board-piles  in 
vacant  lots,  he  harangued  the  mob  on  Sunday  after- 
noons as  they  were  harangued  by  the  other  dema- 
gogues from  similar  platforms  on  week  days.  At 
last,  weary  of  teaching  others  to  disdain  the  com- 
mandment against  coveting  a  neiglibor's  servants,  he 
abandoned  the  pulpit,  and  regaled  himself  with  a 
breach  of  the  commandment  as^ainst  covetins:  a  neit'h- 
bor  s  wife.  A  member  of  his  congregation  had  a 
very  pretty  wife.  Her  beauty  was  to  blame  in  the 
affiiir.  Besides,  a  sweet  sin  that  nestles  in  our  own 
bosoms  looks  less  ugly  than  another  man's  sin  afar  off. 
One  may  be  embraced,  while  the  other  is  anathema. 
When  the  war  broke  out,  however,  he  left  the  arms 
of  his  charmer,  to  take  up  arms  for  his  country. 

Albert  Palmer,  arriving  at  the  village,  hastened  to 
communicate  to  Colonel  Wesel  the  information  which 
he  had  received  from  blind  Pete.  The  colonel  em- 
braced with  alacrity  an  oppoitunity  to  capture  the 


ROEBUCK.  235 

Confederate  officer.  Fitzhugh's  cavalry  had  bcea  en- 
terprising and  troublesome.  They  had  cut  ofF  several 
parties  of  Wesel's  men,  besides  harassing  him  with 
alarms  in  his  camp.  Aided  and  stimulated  by  the 
people,  who  were  exasperated  by  oppression,  they  had 
made  it  necessary  of  late  for  the  Federals  to  restrict 
the  range  of  their  operations  within  narrow  limits. 
The  capture  of  the  Confederate  colonel,  therefore,  was 
veiy  desh-able.  It  would  gratify,  also,  for  Albert 
Palmer  a  private  pique,  and,  perhaps,  open  the  way 
for  the  renewal  of  a  matrimonial  project,  which,  for 
certain  reasons,  he  desired  to  revive.  Love  had  failed, 
but  arms  might  prevail.  The  possession  of  the  heiress 
of  Roebuck  would  be  convenient  in  any  event  of 
the  war,  and  he  still  distrusted  the  success  of  the 
Federals. 

Captain  Dakin  was  aroused  from  slumber,  and  in- 
trusted with  the  duty  of  capturing  Colonel  Fitzhugh, 
and  he  was  directed  also  to  arrest  Colonel  Fairfax, 
and  carry  him  before  the  tribunal  of  the  Federal  com- 
mander, upon  a  charge  of  harboring  the  rebel  officer. 
He  was  to  take  Avith  him  but  a  small  party,  because 
success  might  depend  on  secresy  as  well  as  prompti- 
tude of  action.  The  ready  captain  soon  had  liis  men 
in  the  saddle.  In  moving  about,  he  stumbled  over 
Juba,  who  was  asleep  on  the  porch  of  the  Swan 
tavern.  As  it  was  no  longer  necessary  for  him  to 
take  to  the  bush  for  the  enjoyment'  of  leisure,  he 
lounged  about  the  village,  day  and  night,  waiting  for 
his  slice  of  land.  It  occurred  to  the  captain  that  this 
fellow  might  be  useful  as  a  guide  about  the  grounds 
of  Roebuck,  and  waking  him  with  a  kick,  he  ordered 
him  to  mount  a  horse,  and  accompany  the  party. 
Albert  Palmer  also  went  along.     When  they  were 


236  ROEBUCK. 

witliiii  a  mile  of  the  mansion  of  Roebuck,  Captain 
Dakin  informed  Juba  of  his  destination  and  design, 
requiring  the  invohmtary  guide  to  lead  a  squad  to  tire 
rear  of  the  house,  and  to  point  out  every  path,  gate 
and  outlet  by  which  Fitzhugh  might  escape.  To 
quicken  his  intelligence,  he  was  told  that,  if  the  rebel 
ollicer  was  not  captured,  he  should  be  hung. 

Arriving  near  the  mansion.  Captain  Dakin  quietly 
posted  his  men  so  as  to  shut  up  every  loop-hole  of 
retreat,  and  then  rode  up  to  the  front  of  the  hmise. 
Awaking  the  inmates  by  beating  on  a  door,  he  called 
for  Colonel  Fairfax.  That  gentleman  soon  appeared 
at  an  upper  window,  and  inquired  who  was  there. 

"  Captain  Dakin  desires  to  see  Colonel  Fitzhugh.'* 

"  He  is  not  here." 

"  I  know  better.  I  have  direct  information.  You 
can't  deceive  me." 

"  There  is  no  attempt  to  deceive  you,  I  assure  you 
he  is  not  in  the  house.". 

"  You  want  to  parley  while  he  escapes.  I  under- 
stand your  game.  It  won't  do.  Your  house  is  sur- 
rounded with  my  troops." 

"  Captain  Dakin,  upon  my  honor  he  is  not  here." 

"  You  lie,  you old  rebel.     Send  Fitzhugh  to 

me,  or  I  will  set  fire  to  your  house  in  five  minutes. 
It  ought  to  have  been  burnt  long  ago." 

"  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  send  a  man  who  is  not 
near  me." 

''  Then  the  house  shall  burn." 

"  Surely,  you  are  not  in  earnestT* 

"  You  will  see." 

Captain  Dakin  called  two  of  his  men,  and  ordered 
them  to  bring  fire  from  a  negro  cabin,  and  apply  it  to 
the  house  iu  fl'ont  and  rear.     Colonel  Fairfax  remon- 


n  O  E  B  VCK.  237 

strated,  nnrl  invited  him  to  search  the  hou^e.  The 
captain  replied  that  he  was  not  to  be  taken  in  by  that 
ti-ick.  He  was  then  requested, to  give  the  ladies  time 
to  put  on  tlieir  clothes,  and  leave  the  house  before  it 
was  fired.  lie  answ'rred,  with  an  oath,  that  they  and 
Colonel  Fairflix  should  remain  in  the  house,  and  be 
burnt  with  it,  unless  he  delivered  up  Colonel  Fitz- 
hugh.  "Give  him  up,"  he  added,  "or  his  sweet- 
heart shall  answer  for  it."  This  brutal  threat  was 
heard  by  Julia,  who  stood  at  a  window  of  her  cham- 
ber listening  to  the  dialogue.  Mrs.  Fairfax  stood 
near  her  husband.  He  requested  her  to  go  to  Julia's 
room,  and  directed  that  they  should  both  prepare  to 
fly  from  the  house.  He  then  went  for  a  gun  which 
he  kept  concealed,  because  the  inhabitants  were  gene- 
rally disarmed  by  the  Federals.  Returning  to  the 
window,  he  saw  the  two  soldiers  approaching  with 
fire.  He  called  out  to  Captain  Dakin,  and.  said — "  if 
you  attempt  to  burn  the  house  with  my  family  in  it, 
I  will  certainly  shoot  the  man  who  applies  the  torch," 
The  captain  ordered  the  men  to  fire  the  house.  One 
of  them,  coming  to  the  front,  applied  the  fire,  and 
stooped  down  to  kindle  it.  Colonel  Fairfax  dis- 
charged a  load  of  buck-shot  from  one  barrel  of  the 
gun,  and  one  or  two  shots  entered  the  soldier's  leg. 
He  ran  away,  making  a  gi*eat  outcry  of  pain.  The 
colonel  passed  over  to  a  back  window,  and  saw  the 
other  soldier  putting  fire  to  the  house.  He  discharged 
the  other  barrel,  and  the  man  then  ran,  alarmed,  but 
not  hurt.  ^  Colonel  Fairfax  re-loaded  his  gun,  and  re- 
sumed his  place  at  the  front.  In  the  meantime,  a 
negro  man,  who  slept  in  the  house,  was  awakened  by 
the  report  of  fire-arms,  and  ran  to  the  assistance  of  his 
master.     He  came  to  the  window  just  as  some  of  the 


238  ROEBUCK. 

soldiers  fired  a  volley  at  it,  and  he  was  slightly 
wounded.  His  master,  having  no  weapon  for  him, 
pent  him  to  the  assistance  of  the  ladies,  with  a  request 
that  tliey  would  go  down  stairs,  where  he  would  pre- 
sently join  them,  and  endeavor  to  escape.  The  man 
found  them  dressed ;  but  ]Mi's.  Fairfax,  overcome  with 
alarm,  had  sunk  upon  the  floor,  and  Julia  knelt  beside 
her,  urging  her  to  fly.  When  the  servant  came,  she 
left  her  mother  with  him,  and  going  to  her  father,  in- 
sisted that  he  should  convey  Mrs.  Fau'fax  from  the 
house,  while  she  would  remain  at  the  window,  and 
engage  the  attention  of  the  soldiers.  He  directed  her 
to  return,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  the  servant, 
cany  her  mother  down  stairs,  saying  that  he  would 
detain  the  soldiers  at  the  front,  until  the  ladies  were 
ready  to  pass  out  from  a  back  door,  which  he  desig- 
nated, and  then  he  would  follow.  In  obedience  to  his 
directions,  they  descended  to  the  door.  Wliile  this 
was  taking  place  within,  Captain  Dakin  found  means 
to  fire  the  house,  and  very  soon  the  flames  began  to 
ascend  on  every  side.  The  colonel,  without  further 
delay,  followed  the  ladies,  and  found  them  waiting  for 
him  at  the  door. 

Taking  his  wife,  almost  inanimate,  in  his  arms,  he 
went  out,  followed  by  Julia  and  the  seiwant.  They 
walked  rapidly  away  from  the  house,  and  for  a  short 
distance  were  concealed  by  shrubbery.  But  they 
were  soon  discovered  and  were  pursued  with  cries  of 

"here  they  go — shoot  them — kill  the  secesh." 

Several  pistols  were  fired  at  them.  A  ball  took  efiect 
in  the  colonel's  thigh  and  he  fell  to  the  ground.  His 
-vvife  became  quite  insensible.  Julia  stood  a  moment 
bewildered.  She  saw  some  of  the  soldiers  seize  her 
father  and  others  her  mother,  dragging  them  away. 


n  O  E  B  U  C  K  .  y  2^59 

She  felt  the  grasp  of  two  men  who  drew  her  along,  and 
before  she  could  recover  from  tlie  stupefaction  of  ter- 
ror, they  placed,  her  on  a  horse  before  the  rider.  He 
held  her  firmly  and  dashed  off  at  a  rapid  pace,  which 
L>oon  recalled  her  faculties.  She  straggled  to  free  her- 
Bclf,  but  the  horseman,  tightening  his  grasp  about  her 
waist,  said — "  be  not  alarmed,  Miss  Fah*fax  ;  you  are 
rafe ;  I  will  carry  you  away  from  those  ruffians."  She 
recognized  the  voice  of  Albert  Palmer. 

"  My  father,"  she  cried,  "  my  mother — I  must  not 
leave  them.     O,  Captain  Palmer,  i-^lease  me." 

"That  would  be  madness.  Miss  Fau-fax.  You 
would  run  into  danger  and  could  do  no  good.  I  will 
take  you  to  a  place  of  safety  and  then  look  after 
them." 

"  I  must  go  back.     Release  me,  sir." 
"  Ko,  my  sweet  bird,  that  is  impossible." 
He  stiTick  his  spurs  into  his  horse,  and  in  spite  of 
her  entreaties,  remonstrances  and  struggles,  he  bore 
her  away  through  the  darkness. 

While  the  fire  was  raging.  Captain  Dakin  was  mov- 
ing about  in  great  excitement,  cursing  and  giving 
orders  to  secure  the  rebels  and  keep  ^rict  watch  for 
Fitzhugh.  He  was  expected  eveiy  moment  to  issue 
from  the  burning  building.  When  the  house  was  so 
far  consumed  that  Captain  Dakin  was  sure  the  rebel 
officer  could  not  be  in  it,  he  called  for  the  negro  who 
had  acted  as  guide,  swearing  that  he  had  played  false. 
Poor  Juba  was  found  and  brought  before  him. 
"Hang  him,"  was  the  peremptory  order.  In  vain 
the  negi'o  protested  his  innocence  and  implored  mercy. 
His  cries,  his  groans,  his  tears  were  disregarded. 
While  the  flames  yet  raged,  he  swung  from  a  tree 
before  the  house — a  corpse.     Sparks  fell  on  the  cabin 


240  ROEBUCK. 

of  old  Uncle  Valentine,  and  it  \vas  soon  in  a  blaze. 
He  i;ras  carried  from  it  by  some  of  the  negroes,  dread- 
fully burned,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  died.  It  is 
believed  that  Joe  perished  in  the  burning  mansion. 
He  ran  towards  it  when  he  saw  it  in  flames,  and  hear- 
ing that  his  master  was  inside,  he  rushed  in  to  rescue 
him.  He  was  seen  running  to  and  fro  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  house  -svhen  the  fire  was  licking  the  high- 
est windows.     He  \vas  never  seen  afterwards. 

Mrs.  Faiifax,  after  being  dragged  a  short  distance 
by  the  soldiers,  was  left  by  them  lying  upon  the 
ground,  her  age  and  sex,  perhaps,  obtaining  for  her 
the  compassion  of  neglect.  Some  of  her  servants  car- 
ried her  to  a  negi'O  cabin,  where  the  faithful  creatm-es 
ministered  to  her  with  assiduous  care  until  morning, 
when  she  was  conveyed  to  the  house  of  a  friend  in  the 
neighborhood.  Colonel  Fairfax,  after  being  drawn 
along  the  eartli  in  great  agony  from  the  spot  where 
he  was  wounded  to  a  place  more  remote  from  the 
flames,  was  guarded  as  if  he  had  been  able  to  fight  or 
fly.  He  lay  in  pain  and  in  view  )f  his  bm-ning  home ; 
but  more  intolerable  than  his  wjund  was  his  anxiety 
for  the  safety  of  his  wife  and  daughter.  He  was  kept 
in  ignorance  of  their  fate,  and  when  the  rising  sun 
shone  upon  the  smoking  ruins  of  his  mansion,  he  was 
thrown  into  a  cart  and  eanied  to  the  village.  He  was 
there  placed  in  a  house  which  was  used  as  a  hospital. 
The  surgeon  in  charge  treated  •him  vith  professional 
skill  and  with  extreme  kindness.  He  left  nothing 
undone  that  was  within  his  power  for  the  relief  and 
comfort  of  the  wounded  and  bereaved  gentleman. 
During  the  day  a  considerable  number  of  Federal 
officers  called  upon  him  to  express  their  sympathy 
and  respect.     Of  these,  some  had  enjoyed  his  hospi- 


ROEBUCK.  241 

tality,  and  esteemed  him  from  personal  .acquaintance. 
To  others  he  was  a  stranger,  but  they  knew  his  char- 
acter and  acted  in  the  spirit  ot  generous  courtesy 
which  becomes  the  profession  of  arms. 

When  Colonel  Wesel  heard  his  subordinate's  re- 
port of  the  proceedings  or  operations  of  the  night,  he 
commended  the  captain's  conduct,  and  was  enraged  at 
tlie  audacious  attack  made  by  Colonel  Fairfax  on  the 
Federal  troops.  He  looked  upon  it  as  the  cap-sheaf 
of  crime  in  the  county.  He  denounced  Colonel  Fair- 
fax not  only  as  a  "  secesh,"  a  rebel  and  an  aristocrat, 
but  as  a  "bushwhacker" — an  epithet  commonly 
applied  to  those  persons,  who,  not  being  in  the  mili- 
tary service,  waylaid  enemies  and  shot  them  from 
bushes,  trees,  rocks,  houses  or  other  places  of  conceal- 
ment. Tlie  insolent  offences  of  the  secesh  citizens,  he 
declared,  had  been  increasing  of  late.  Woman  had 
worn  Confederate  colors  in  their  garments  and  had 
declined  the  acquaintance  of  Federals.  Men  had  re- 
fused to  remain  at  home  and  till  the  ground.  Negroes 
had  been  chastised.  Rebel  soldiers  had  been  harbored 
by  their  families  and  others.  Loyal  citizens  had  been 
insulted.  The  venerable  clergyman  of  the  village  had 
refused  to  pray  for  the  President  of  th"e  United  States 
These,  and  other  enormities,  were  recited  in  an  order 
issued  by  Colonel  Wesel,  and  it  was  added  that  law- 
less barbarity  had  at  last  culminated  in  an  attempt 
made  by  a  bad  old  man  to  assassinate  a  Federal  officer 
and  several  men,  at  midnight,  by  clandestinely  shooting 
at  them  from  the  concealment  of  darkness  and  of  a 
private  dwelling.  The 'colonel  announced  his  deter- 
mination to  suppress  all  these  diabolical  practices,  and 
especially  that  of  bushwhacking.  He  threatened 
that  other  dwellings  should  be  destroyed,  and  that,  if 


242  KOEBUCK. 

such  offences  were  repeated,  the   county  should  be 
•made  a  barren  waste. 

He  proceeded  to  make  an  example  of  the  church 
and  the  pastor.  He  appropriated  the  ancient  edifice 
to  the  uses  of  a  stable  for  the  cavalry.  He  caused 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Ambler  to  be  aiTcsted  and  brought 
before  him.  After  interi'ogating  and  bullying  the 
old  gentleman,  and  lecturing  him  on  theology,  he 
condemned  the  meek  and  venerable  minister  to  work 
upon  the  street  of  the  village  daily,  dui'ing  the  plea- 
sure of  the  colonel.  The  sentence  was  instantly  car- 
ried into  execution,  and,  beside  a  negro,  the  village 
pastor,  guarded  like  a  felon,  bowed  his  white  head 
over  a  spade.  He  bore  his  cross  with  Christian 
resignation,  but  he  called  to  mind  the  words  of  the 
Preacher — "  If  thou  seest  the  oppression  of  the  poor 
and  violent  perverting  of  judgment  and  justice  in  a 
province,  marvel  not  at  the  matter:  for  He  that  is 
higher  than  the  highest  regardeth;  and  there  bo 
higher  than  they." 


ROEBUCK.  243 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

VENGEANCE. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  Captain  Dakin 
was  sent  out  upon  an  errand  of  devastation.  At 
Roebuck  he  burned  barns,  fences,  stacks  and  every- 
thing else  that  wUs  valuable  and  combustible,  except 
a  few  cabins  inhabited  by  negroes— a  faithful  remnant 
of  the  blithe  black  population  that  once  enjoyed  the 
wealth  of  that  estate.  He  then  led  his  troopers  to 
Willowbank,  and  proceeded  to  execute  vengeance 
upon  Hugh  Fitzhugh  and  his  mother,  by  destroying 
their  ancient  mansion.  He  sent  one  of  the  servants 
to  notify  his  mistress  that  he  was  about  to  burn  the 
house,  and  that  she  would  be  allowed  ten  minutes  to 
remove  her  indispensable  clothing.  She  was  confined 
to  bed  by  sickness.  She  sent  her  faithful  servant. 
Belle,  to  inform  the  Federal  officer  of  her  condition, 
and  to  request  him  not  to  disturb  her  at  that  time. 
He  replied  that  he  was  up  to  the  tricks  of  the  "  she- 
rebels  ;"  that  her  illness  was  feigned,  to  save  her 
house,  but  that  it  should  not  avail.  He  ordered 
Belle  to  tell  the  old  woman  up  stairs  that  the  house 
would  be  fired  in  precisely  ten  minutes  by  the  watch. 

When  the  lady  was  informed  of  this  savage  threat, 
and  was  convinced  by  Belle's  representations  that  the 
captain  intended  to  execute  it,  her  eyes  flashed  and 
her  bosom  swelled  with  indignant  defiance.  The 
energy  of  her  spirit  overcame  the  languor  of  disease. 
"  Go,"  said  she  to  Belle,  "  tell  the  brutal  wretch  that 


244  nOEBUCK. 

I  will  remain  here.  Let  him  burn  the  liouse  find  me 
too."  Belle  descended  again  and  informed  the  cap- 
tain that  her  mistress  could  not  be  removed  without 
risk  of  her  life,  and  would  not  consent  to  leave  the 
house.  She  imjilored  him  not  to  burn  the  house  with 
her  mistress  in  it.  He  repeated  his  former  threat, 
with  many  oaths.  "When  the  servant  returned  to  tlio 
chamber  she  found  that  Mrs.  Fitzhugh  had  composed 
herself  in  bed  with  rigid  resolution,  and  was  evi- 
dently preparing  her  mind  for  the  death  which  she 
expected.  She  said  to  her  servant — "  Stay  here  until 
they  fire  the  house  ;  then  save  yourself.  I  hope  this 
sacrifice  will  arouse  the  indignation  of  men  and  the 
justice  of  Heaven  to  aiTest  tlie  atrocious  system  of 
warfai'e  that  is  desolating  my  country.  Tell  my  dear 
Hugh  that  I  die  blessing  him.  God  save  Vh'ginia. 
Now  farewell,  my  good  girl.  I  must  prepare  for 
death." 

Belle  uttered  loud  lamentations,  and,  on  her  knees, 
entreated  her  mistress  to  leave  the  house.  She  even 
attempted  to  carry  her  away  forcibly,  but  the  authority 
and  resistance  of  the  energetic  old  lady  prevented  her. 
When  the  fire  began  to  rise  she  ran  to  and  fi*o  wildly, 
and  then,  after  a  final  efiort  to  remove  Mrs.  Fitzhugh 
with  affectionate  violence,  she  fled  from  the  flames. 
When  Captain  Dakin  saw  her  run  out,  leaving  her 
mistress  in  the  burning  building,  he  began  to  think 
that  the  old  lady  really  could  not  be  removed  by  her 
servant,  and  that  she  would  be  consumed  by  the  fire. 
Shocked  at  that  probable  event,  he  ordered  some  of 
his  men  to  enter  the  house  and  carry  her  out.  They 
rushed  into  her  chamber,  caught  her  up,  without  re- 
garding her  remonstrances,  and  bore  her  into  the 
yai'd  only  a  moment  before  it  would  have  been  too 


ROEBUCK.  245 

late  to  descend  the  stairs.  They  laid  her  on  the 
grass,  and  there  she  witnessed  the  final  destruction  of 
her  house.  When  the  flames  had  sunk  into  smoulder- 
ing ashes  she  inquired  for  the  officer  in  command. 
Captain  Dakin  presented  himself  to  her. 

"Captain,"  she  said,  looking  at  him  sternly,  ''you 
have  destroyed  my  home,  thrusting  me  from  it  when 
I  am  too  feeble  to  rise ;  but  my  misfortunes  are  as 
nothing  in  the  general  calamity.  I  bear  them  pa- 
tiently, as  tsacriuces  for  my  country.  It  is  not  of  them 
I  wish  to  speak  to  you.  But  1  have  heard  of  the 
outrages  you  have  perpetrated  upon  others — upon  rich 
and  poor — upon  men,  women  and  children.  Now, 
while  you  look  on  the  last  embers  you  have  made, 
your  latest  victim,  a  feeble  old  woman,  warns  you  to 
desist  from  your  ferocious  warfare  on  the  innocent 
and  defenceless.  As  sure  as  there  is  a  God  who 
pities  the  widow  and  the  fatherless,  you  and  your 
people  will  rue  these  crimes.  Divine  justice  will  not 
always  sleep  " 

"Divine  justice!"  interrupted  the  reverend  cap- 
tain, with  an  oath  and  a  satu-ical  laugh,  "that's 
played  out  long  since  at  the  North.  No  more  of  that 
sort  of  talk,  old  woman." 

"  Have  you  dethroned  God  f 

"  Take  this  Avoman  away,"  he  said  to  some  of  her 
servants  who  had  assembled  around  her.  They  car- 
ried her  away  tenderly.  Some  of  them  had  lately 
been  corrupted  by  evil  association,  but  the  sight  of 
their  old  mistress  in  distress  moved  their  passionate 
hearts  to  eagn*  demonstrations  of  affection.  She 
thanked  them,  and  when  she  was  refreshed  with  rest 
she  called  some  of  her  women  around  her  and  thus 
addressed  t.hpra . 


246  ROEBUCK. 

"  I  tliank  you,  ray  poor  girls,  for  your  service.  I 
am  grateful  to  all  my  sen-ants.  I  do  not  reproach 
those  who  have  left  me.  I  pity  you  all.  You  do  not 
foresee  the  evils  that  are  coming  upon  your  race.  I 
can  no  longer  protect  you.  Om*  house,  that  gave  you 
and  me  shelter,  is  destroyed.  Our  family  is  broken 
up.  We  shall  be  no  more  together.  But  I  shall 
never  forget  the  love  and  fidelity  of  my  servants  dur- 
ing so  many  years.  God  grant  that  you  may  never 
regret  our  separation.  I  cannot  give  you  counsel 
hereafter,  and  let  me  tell  you,  once  for  all,  that  if  you 
would  be  happy  you  must  be  humble,  industrious  and 
good.     Bless  you,  my  girls  ;  may  you  be  happy  !" 

After  Captain  Dakin  had  fulfilled  his  mission  of 
destruction  at  Willowbank,  he  led  his  troopers  away 
to  other  work  of  a  similar  kind.  Passing  near  the 
cabin  of  Marlin,  the  preaching  cooper,  he  remembered 
a  report  that  Eliza  Marhn  had  committed  the  ofience 
of  carrying  medicines  to  the  rebels.  Pie  could  not 
recollect  the  particulars  of  the  accusation,  but  it  arose 
out  of  the  circumstance  that,  when  her  father  had  an 
attack  of  fever,  she  visited  him  in  camp,  and  carried 
some  drugs  for  the  use  of  him  and  others.  Halting 
before  the  cabin,  he  called  Eliza  and  charged  her  with 
the  offence.  She  admitted  it,  stating  all  the  circum- 
stances. He  declared  that  she  should  be  punished  on 
the  spot.  By  his  command  some  of  the  men  seized 
her,  and  tying  her  thumbs  with  cords,  drew  them  up 
until  her  arms  were  stretched  above  her  head  and 
she  stood  upon  her  toes,  and  then  they  attached  the 
cords  to  a  joist.  Others  tied  her  mother  to  a  chain, 
so  that  she  could  not  release  her  daughter.  Thus  the 
two  women  were  left.  Eliza  had  struggled  while 
they  were  binding  her,  until  she  fuim4  vowstiince  use- 


ROEBUCK.  247 

less,  and  ilien,  disdcoining  to  bog  for  mercy,  she  sub- 
mitted ill  silence.  ^  When  her  face  reddened  and  her 
eyes  flashed  with  indignation,  she  seemed  beautiful  to 
the  rude  and  pitiless  troopers.  Her  defenceless  situ- 
ation and  the  degradation  to  which  she  had  been  sub- 
jected by  their  captain  encouraged  them  to  entertain 
a  licentious  and  outrageous  design  against  her.  On 
the  march,  when  it  had  become  dark,  four  or  five  of 
them  separated  themselves  from  the  command  and 
returned  to  the  cabin.  Releasing  Eliza,  they  began- 
to  insult .  her  with  the  rough  familiarity  of  affected 
fondness,  and  then  ensued  a  scene  of  violence  which 
cannot  be  described. 

When  the  men  were  departing  they  released  Mrs. 
Marlin,  and  with  mock  compassion  bade  her  take  good 
cara  of  her  pretty  daughter.  That  wretched  girl  was 
left  nearly  dead,  and  praying  for  death  as  a  refuge 
from  shame.  Her  mother's  brain  reeled,  and  she  was 
almost  incapable  of  rendering  any  assistance  to  the 
form  that  writhed  upon  the  floor.  "O,  mother, 
^lother,"  was  the  despairing  cry  of  the  girl  in  her 
deadly  anguish.  "O,  God,  O,  God  !"  was  the  cry  of 
the  mother.  Throwing  herself  beside  her  daughter, 
a'nd  embracing  her  with  frenzied  passion,  she  sobbed 
and  wept  until  the  motionless  stillness  of  the  girl 
startled  her  with  a  new  fear.  "  O  God,  my  daughter 
is  dead!"  she  exclaimed.  The  dim  light  of  a  poor 
candle  could  scarcely  reveal  her  low  breathing,  her 
eyes  were  half-closed,  and  she  appeared  to  her  dis- 
tracted mother  the  imasje  of  death.  Still  clinijinGr  to 
hope,  Mrs.  Marlin  hastened  to  apply  the  simple  restor- 
atives at  hand,  and  gradually  recalled  so  much  anima- 
tion that  her  daughter  could  fiintly  converse.  In  that 
condition   she   lingered   some    hours   of   the   night. 


248  ROEBUCK. 

Having  laid  lier  on  a  bed,  her  motlier  sat  beside  her. 
With  her  strong  will  she  drove  back  the  madness 
which  she  felt  to  be  creeping  over  her  brain,  in  order 
that  she  might  ward  off  death,  which,  she  feared,  was 
stealing  into  the  heart  of  her  daughter.  Alone, 
throngh  the  dark  and  dreary  watches  of  a  terrible 
night,  she  sustained  that  awful  conflict.  The  dying 
girl  sometimes,  in  delirium,  uttered  words  that  cleft 
the  soul  of  the  lonely  watcher  at  her  bedside.  Some- 
times, in  rational  moments,  she  whispered  such  despair, 
such  pity  for  her  mother,  such  affection  for  her  absent 
father  and  brother,  that  the  miserable  mother  wavered 
between  madness  and  death.  At  length  Eliza  started 
np,  and  staring  with  all  the  dreadful  feelings  of  tliat 
night  concentrated  in  her  eyes,  she  cried,  "  it  is  over," 
and  fell  back  upon  her  pillow.  Then  a  more  placid 
expression  settled  upon  her  face,  and  she  died. 

The  mother  at  first  refused  to  believe  that  all  was 
over.  She  fancied  that  a  light  breath  still  came  from 
those  lifeless  lips.  She  laid  her  hand  over  the  pulse- 
less heart  and  stood  fondly  waiting  to  feel  the  motion 
of  life.  While  thus  slie  stood  a  change  came  over  her 
own  features.  Still  feeling  in  vain  for  the  pulsation 
of  her  daughter's  heart,  her  pallid  features  became 
rigid  and  then  relaxed  to  an  unmeaning  simper.  "  I 
cant  find  it — I  can't  find  it " — she  repeated,  moving 
herhandsabout  over  the  body  of  her  child.  Presently 
she  walked  to  the  door — then  out  upon  the  road,  and 
she  stood  there  a  few  minutes  in  silence.  Suddenly 
she  burst  into  a  loud  laugh,  and  cried — "  I  know 
where  it  is.  Abraham's  got  it.  Ill  go  for  Abraham." 
She  walked  rapidly  away  through  the  darkness.  By 
chance,  or  from  some  recollection  that  her  husband  had 
passed  that  way  the  night  before,  she  Ibllowed  his 


ROEBUCK.  249 

regiment.  She  kept  on  its  track  during  the  remain- 
der of  the  night,  in  the  morning  and  throughout  the 
day.  On  she  went,  without  food  or  drink  or  rest. 
Now  and  then  she  stopped  and  looked  bewildered,  as 
if  she  had  forgotten  her  eut*and.  Then  she  would 
start,  saying,  "I'll  go  for  Abraham — he's  got  it." 
Tims  onward  she  strode,  drawn  by  the  insane  lancy 
that  he?  husband  could  restore  that  mysterious  spring 
of  life  which  had  ceased  to  vibrate  in  the  bosom  of  her 
daughter,  though  she  had  lost  all  rational  recollection 
of  that  which  she  had  lost  and  for  which  she  searched. 
"  Abraham's  got  it — I'll  go  for  Abraham ;"  this  frag- 
ment of  thought  survived  the  wreck  of  her  intellect, 
and  was  drifting  her  towards  her  husband. 

At  evening  she  came  upon  the  regiment  where  it 
had  halted.  Moving  about  among  the  men,  she  took 
no  notice  of  any  one  until  she  saw  her  husband.  Run- 
ning to  him,  she  seized  his  hand  and  attempted  to 
lead  him  along,  while  she  said,  "  Come,  Abraham — I 
knowed  you  had  it.  Bring  it  home.  Eliza's  waiting 
for  it.  She  is  lying  on  the  bed.  She  looks  so  pretty." 
She  laughed  aloud,  and  then  began  to  talk  rapidly  and 
incoherently,  making  no  allusion  to  her  daughter  or 
to  her  husband's  return  home.  Having  fulfilled  the 
purpose  which  had  kept  her  wandering  mind  partially 
fixed  during  the  day,  she  lost  all  control  of  her  wild 
imagination.  In  vain  her  distressed  husband  endeav- 
ored to  learn  from  her  the  object  of  her  journey  and 
the  rational  explanation  of  the  words  with  which  she 
had  greeted  him.  When  her  son,  hearing  of  her 
arrival,  went  to  meet  her,  she  fell  upon  his  neck,  ex- 
claiming, "  my  brave  boy."  Then  her  talk  rambled 
again  into  unintelligible  mazes.  Her  husband  and 
son  were  afliicted  bebond  expression.     They  feared, 

11* 


250  ROEBUCK. 

too,  that  some  dreadful  event  must  have  occuiTcd  to 
Bhatter  her  intellect,  and  both  her  first  allusion  to 
Eliza,  dnd  the  absence  of  the  daughter  from  the 
mother  in  her  present  condition,  suggested  the  most 
teiTible  apprehensions  for  the  beloved  girl. 

When  Colonel  Fitzhugh  became  acquainted  with 
these  circumstances  he  expressed  the  deepest  sorrow 
for  the  afflictions  of  this  poor  family,  and  considered 
what  might  be  done  for  their  relief.  Among  other 
measures  which  he  suggested  oi*  adopted,  he  relieved 
both  Abraham  and  Mark  from  military  duty,  advising 
the  husband  to  take  charge  of  his  wife,  and  the  son  to 
go  home  immediately  and  look  after  the  safety  of  his 
sister.  They  followed  his  advice,  and  Mark  was  soon 
riding  rapidly  towards  the  cabin  in  which  Eliza  had 
been  left  by  her  mother. 


ROEBUCK.  251 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 


BAXTER. 


Some  time  after  nightfall,  while  Captain  Dakin  was 
absent  from  the  village,  upon  his  foray  against  AVil- 
lowbank,  and  other  defenceless  dwellings  of  women 
and  children.  Colonel  Wesel  was  seated  in  a  great 
arm-chair,  in  a  room  of  the  Swan  tavern.  His  rotund 
figure  swelled  with  importance,  his  lace  was  red,  and 
his  eyes  were  moist  with  the  dew  distilled  by  drink. 
Altogether,  he  looked  mellow,  though  duly  formi- 
dable, as  he  said  pompously — "  bring  in  the  prisoner." 
The  order  was  obeyed,  and  a  young  man,  followed  by 
a  guard,  swaggered  into  the  room,  and,  without  wait- 
ing for  an  invitation,  took  a  seat.  He  looked  first  at 
Colonel  Wesel,  and  then  at  Albert  Palmer,  who  was 
sitting  at  the  colonel's  right  hand,  as  a  counsellor. 
He  gazed  at  them  both  with  an  insolent  stare,  and 
then,  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  threw  his  feet  upon  a 
table.  He  was  clad  in  the  uniform  of  a  private  of 
Confederate  cavalry.  He  was  not  known  to  the  col- 
onel, but  Palmer  at  once  recognized  his  old  antagonist, 
Baxter.  That  eccentric  commissary  resigned  his 
commission  at  the  time  of  his  duel  with  Palmer,  and 
returning  home,  he  remained  there  in  inglorious  ease, 
until  the  next  spring,  when  the  law  of  conscription 
was  enacted  by  the  Confederate  Congress.  Being 
til  en  obliged  to  enter  the  service,  he  became  a  private 
in  the  company  formerly  commanded  by  Hugh  Fitz- 
hugh.     When  the  regiment  passed  near  Roebuck, 


252  ROEBUCK. 

just  before  the  burning  of  that  mansion,  Baxter  took 
the  liberty  of  withdrawing  from  the  ranks  and  visit- 
ing the  village.  He  intended  to  spend  an  hour  there, 
and  return  to  the  regiment.  But  he  fell  in  with  a 
boon  companion  a:id  good  liquor.  *  Ilis  habitual 
weakness  detained  him  several  hours,  and,  at  last,  he 
lay  down  to  sleep  himself  sober.  He  slept  until  eve- 
ning, and  then,  in  attempting  to  pass  out  of  the  vil- 
lage, he  was  captured.'  When  he  found  himself  in 
the  presence  of  Wesel  and  Palmer,  his  first  thought 
was  that  the  one  was  a  fool,  and  the  other  a  cowai'd. 
He  conceived  the  idea  of  escaping  from  durance  by 
some  stratagem,  and  with  that  view,  he  determined  to 
protract  the  proceedings,  which  would  keep  him  about 
the  tavern,  and  to  try  the  effect  of  bullying  his 
judges.  He  gave  free  rein  to  his  insolence,  affecting 
to  be  drunk,  although  he  was  as  sober  as  a  man  ought 
ever  to  be,  according  to  his  theory. 

"  So,"  said  Colonel  Wesel,  sternly,  "  you  be'st  our 
prisoner." 

"  I  suspected  as  much,"  answered  Baxter. 

''  And  moreover,  besides,  you  be'st  a  spy." 

"  That's  a  lie." 

"  Mein  Gott !     That  is  impudence." 

"  You  ai-e  a  fool,  and  you  speak  broken  Dutch." 

"  Yat  you  say  1  You  impudent  slavery  institution. 
Donner !  That  institution  is  impudent.  Yat  you  say  ? 
Eh-h-h?" 

"  Colonel,  you  are  right  in  objecting  to  the  insti- 
tution, but  you  do  not  urge  the  riglit  objection." 

"Yat  is  das,  you  secesh  puppy." 

"  The  only  valid  objection  to  our  peculiar  institu- 
tion is  that  the  niggers  sing  at  their  work,  and  sing 
slow  tunes.  They  work  to  hymns,  and  dance  to  jigs. 
It  won't  pay." 


ROEBUCK.  253 

"  Veil,  I  vlll  hang  you.  You  bees  a  spy.  Now  let 
us  go  on  wid  the  examination.  I  vill  hang  you,  but 
I  vill  examine  you  first.  You  shall  not  say,  when 
you  are  dead,  that  I  does  not  the  fair  thing." 

"  I  think  we  might  pass  over  the  examination,  since 
the  sentence  has  been  abeady  pronounced.  That  would 
save  time." 

"  No ;  I  vill  examine  you,  to  hang  you  according 
to  law." 

"  Then  I  will  lie  down  on  this  bench,  and  take  a 
nap,  while  you  are  engaged  in  the  examination.  When 
you  are  ready  to  hang  me,  please  wake  me  up.  I 
want  to  see  it  done." 

"  You  dinks  I  von't  hang  you ;  but  I  vill, 
by ." 

"  No,  you  won't." 

*'  What  for  I  won't  hang  you  1     Eh-h-h !" 

"  Don't  put  your  face  so  near  me,  when  you  speak 
to  me.  Your  breath  smells  of  onions  and  Sweitzer 
cheese." 

"  I  vill  stop .  your  breath  vid  a  rope,  hundsfut, 
Johnny  Reb." 

"Now,  don't.  I  prefer  to  be  shot.  Can't  you 
spare  me  a  bullet  1  A  bullet  is  the  decent  dose  for 
a  gentleman.  There  is  Palmer — he  can  tell  you  so. 
By  the  way,  did  he  ever  tell  you  about  the  exchange 
of  bullets  between  him  and  me  when  he  was  in  the 
rebel  service?" 

'•  You  slander  mine  fi-iend.  He  is  not  a  rebel  nor 
never  vas  not." 

"  Not  rebel  enough  to  hurt  him.  He  deserted  the 
first  chance  he  got." 

"  Don't  mind  what  a  drunken  fellow  says,"  inter- 
posed Palmer. 


254  ROEBUCK, 

"  But,  colonel,  I  must  tell  you  about  our  duel.  It 
is  a  capital  story.     This  was  the  way  of  it." 

"He  will  talk  here  all  night,  if  you  let  him,"  again 
interrupted  Palmer,  uneasuy,  "  you  had  better  send 
him  to  the  guard-house." 

"  But,  colonel,  it  is  a  good  story.  Send  for  a 
bottle,  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  while  we 
drink." 

"  You  saucy  sesesh !  You  shall  not  drink  my 
liquer,  nor  tell  me  no  story.  Let  us  go  on  vid  the 
examination." 

''Now,  colonel,  I  know  you  are  dry.  So  am  I. 
You  won't  refuse  a  poor  devil  a  drink,  when  he  ia 
going  to  be  hung." 

"  Das  is  tnie.  Das  is  fair.  Palmer,  please  get  the 
bottle." 

"  That,  now,  is  handsome  for  a  Dutchman,"  said 
Baxter,  taking  up  the  bottle,  which  Palmer  produced 
fi-om  a  closet,  "  now,  I  will  tell  the  story." 

"You  are  an  infamous  liar,"  exclaimed  Palmer, 
livid  with  rage. 

"  You  shall  be  a  toddy,"  said  Baxter,  as  he  hurled 
the  bottle  at  Palmer's  head  ;  "  whiskey  to  milk-and- 
water  ;"  but  the  bottle  missed  the  head,  and  was 
shattered  against  the  wall;  "a  dead  loss,"  added 
Baxter. 

TVesel  stormed  furiously,  and  threatened  the  pris- 
oner with  a  thousand  deaths,  in  German  and  English. 
Baxter  sat  quiet,  until  the  storm  had  somewhat  sub- 
sided, and  he  then  said,  "  Colonel,  as  we  have  nothing 
to  drink,  we  had  better  resume  the  examination." 

"  Yell,  I  vill  hang  you." 

"  You  dare  not." 

"  Vot  for  I  dares  not  V*     * 


ROEBUCK.  255 

*'  Because  Colonel  Fitzhugli  will  hang  you  before 
to-morrow-night,  if  you  do." 

"  Fitzstue  !  Where  is  he  ?  I  vas  looking  for  that 
rebel.     I  burnt  him  up  in  that -old  rebel  roost." 

"  He  is  with  his  regiment,  and  near  enough  to  you 
to  hang  you  to-morrow." 

"  Vas  he  in  this  village  vid  you  ven  you  didn't  get 
out  ?  Tell  me  truth,  or  I  vill  hang  you  again,  two, 
three  times." 

"  He  may  be  in  the  village  now." 

"  Ambuscade,  eh  ?    That rebel  cavalry  is  eveiy- 

where.    I  can't  sleep.    I  can't  eat  mine  dinner,  I  can't 

take  mine  little  dram — you  broke  mine  bottle,  you 

butternut — till  some  fellow  comes  running  in  to  tell  the 
rebel  cavalry  is  upon  us.  It  is  the  black-horse  and 
the  white-horse,  it  is  Ashby's  and  Stuart's,  and  it  is 
Fitzstue's  all  the  times.  Where  is  he?  Send  out 
some  of  them  cowardly  cavalry  of  mine.  They  runs 
back  ven  they  sees  a  bush.  Send  the  prisoner  to  the 
guard  house." 

"  I  won't  go  to  the  guard-house." 

"  You  won't.     Why  won't  you,  then  t     Eh-h-h !" 

"Because  I  am  a  gentleman.  I'll  give  you  my 
parole." 

"  You  are  a  rebel— that's  vOt  you  bees." 

"  A  rebel  owing  allegiance,  I  suppose,  to  Dutchmen 
hired  to  conquer  American  States!" 

"  I  bin  colonel  of  a  loyal  regiment.  I  bin  gentle- 
man." 

"  A  Dutch  colonel  of  a  Yankee  regiment !  What 
a  conjunction  I  Krout  and  clam-chowder  !  Hessian 
and  Yankee!  Hush — listen — there  is  Fitzhugh's 
cavalry  now !" 

A  clatter  of  hoofs  was  heard  on  the  street.    Colonel 


256  ROEBUCK. 

Wesel  started  up  and  van  to  the  door,  followed  by  all 
the  others  who  were  in  the  room.  lie  called  to  arms. 
He  peered  into  the  dark  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the 
alarm.  Captain  Dakin  with  his  troops  rode  up.  In 
tiie  confusion  and  darkness  Baxter  had  slipped  away. 
By  his  intimate  knowledge  of  all  places  about  the  vil- 
lage he  was  able  in  a  icw  minutes  to  reacli  a  place  of 
concealment,  where  he  remained  until  a  late  hour  of 
the  night  favored  his  escape. 

After  passing  out  of  the  village,  and  walking  a  mile 
or  two,  he  heard  the  rattling  of  a  cart  on  the  road. 
Stopping  behind  a  tree  until  it  came  up,  he  found  it 
was  blind  Pete's.  That  knave  still  continued  his  noc- 
turnal rambles,  and  practised  liis  villainies  now  with- 
out even  the  trouble  of  giving  bail.  Baxter  hailed 
him,  and  taking  a  seat  in  the  cart  beside  him,  told  him 
to  drive  on.  As  they  rode  along,  he  drew  from  Pete 
a  variety  of  information  about  the  Federal  force  and 
otber  matters,  sometimes  by  wheedling  and  some- 
times*TDy  brow-beating.  It  was  not  difliciilt  to  do,  for 
Pete  parted  readily  with  whatever  knowledge  he  pos- 
sessed. He  would  yield  it  up  at  any  time  to  bribes 
or  threats,  and  often  threw  it  away  recklessly,  from  a 
propensity  to  gossip.  From  him  Baxter  derived 
some  information  respecting  Colonel  Fairfax  and  his 
family,  which,  with  additions  not  known  to  the  blind 
gossip,  it  is  proper  to  convey  to  the  reader. 

When  Pete,  on  the  night  before,  left  Mr.  Palmer's, 
he  went  with  his  cart  towards  Koebuck,  by  order  of 
Albert.  That  young  gentleman  could  not  have  anti- 
cipated the  fire,  but  he  appears  to  have  conceived  the 
capture  of  Fitzhugh  and  the  arrest  of  Colonel  Fairflix, 
and  may  have  thought  tJiat  the  execution  of  such  a 
plan  of  violence  would  offer  an  opportunity  for  using 


ROEBUCK.  257 

Pete's  cart  in  some  such  enterprise  as  he  afterwards 
effected.  On  his  way  thither  the  carter  met  Palmer, 
carrying  Miss  Fairfax  on  his  horse.  With  Pete's 
assistance  he  forced  her  into  the  cart  and  took  a  seat 
beside  her.  He  then  directed  Pete  to  drive  to  Ids 
father's.  The  young  lady  frequently  implored  Palmer 
with  pathetic  entreaty  to  release  her  or  to  carry  her 
to  her  parents.  Sometimes,  as  the  cart  moved  on,  she 
tried  to  get  upon  her  knees  before  him.  She  appealed 
to  his  manhood,  to  his  pity.  Sometimes,  after  she 
found  him  unrelenting,  she  gave  way  to  helpless  and 
hopeless  indignation,  more  pitiable  than  her  tears.  He 
spoke  but  little.  At  first  he  affected  to  soothe  her 
with  professions  of  regard  and  promises  of  safety. 
Then,  becoming  impatient,"  he  rebuked  her  sternly 
and  relapsed  into  silence.  When  they  arrived  at  his 
father's  house  she  was  taken  to  the  front  door,  which 
was  opened  by  Mr.  Palmer,  in  answer  to  Pete's  signal, 
and  then  the  blind  agent  was  dismissed. 

The  next  morning  the  elder  Palmer  called  on  Col- 
onel Wesel  at  the  village.  He  and  his  son  were  con- 
fidential advisers  of  that  officer  in  all  affairs  of  the 
county.  He  was  trusted  as  the  head  of  the  "  loyal " 
element  in  the  county,  as  he  had  a  right  to  be — being 
the  head  of  his  own  family.  After  congratulating 
Colonel  Wesel  upon  the  vigor  and  success  of  his 
administration*  especially  as  shown  in  the  last  night's 
operations,  he  proceeded  to  dilate  upon  the  importance 
of  the  capture  which  had  been  made  in  the  person  of 
Colonel  Fairfax.  Besides  denouncing  the  offences 
specially  charged  against  him,  such  as  harboring  a 
rebel  officer  and  bushwhacking,  he  represented  that 
the  colonel  was  the  main  stay  of  the  secession  interest 
in  the  county.     He  suggested  that  the  removal  of  one 


258  ROEBUCK. 

so  influential  from  the  State  would  tend  to  quell  the 
spirit  of  resistance,  and  ])roduce  quiet  and  submission. 
He  suspected  that  if  such  a  prisoner  remained  at  the 
village  desperate  efforts  would  be  made  to  rescue  him, 
and  Colonel  Wesel  might  be  attacked  by  an  over- 
powering force.  He  advised  that  the  distinguislied 
rebel  should  be  sent  to  Washington,  with  a  suitable 
representation  of  his  offences  and  of  his  importance,  I 
in  order  that  he  might  be  detained  there  as  a  prisoner 
of  State.  Colonel  Wesel,  elated  with  his  good  for- 
tune, and  apprehensive  of  a  rescue,  embraced  the  advice 
with  alacrity.  That  very  evening  Colonel  Fairfax 
was  started  to  Washington.  He  had  to  make  the  first 
stage  of  the  journey  in  an  open  wagon  and  over  rough 
roads.  He  suffered  intolerable  pain.  But  he  was 
hurried  off  without  mercy,  escorted  by  a  strong  guard. 
He  requested  permission  to  see  his  wife  and  daughter 
before  starting,  but  it  was  refused.  He  was  not  in- 
formed of  his  destination,  and  that  was  kept  a  secret 
from  others,  lest  a  knowledge  of  the  route  to  be  pur- 
sued should  f:icilitate  a  rescue.  He  was  not  even 
permitted  to  know  what  had  become  of  his  wife  and 
daughter. 

Mrs.  Fairfax  remained  at  the  house  to  which  she 
had  been  carried,  as  already  mentioned,  on  the  morn- 
ing after  the.  fire  at  Roebuck.  Mrs.  Fitzhugh  was 
canied  to  the  same  place,  after  the  de^'uction  of  her 
house.  To  that  high-spirited  lady  the  exertion  re- 
quired by  her  misfortune  proved  an  antidote  to  melan- 
choly. As  she  had  suffered  only  in  the  loss  of  property, 
and  not,  like  Mrs  Fairfax,  in  the  loss  of  those  who 
were  dearest  to  her,  she  became  more  cheerful  than 
she  had  usually  been  during  the  war.  She  devoted 
herself  to  the  consolation  of  her  more  afflicted  friend. 


ROEBUCK.  259 

Mrs.  Fairfax,  of  a  gentle,  tender,  delicate  nature, 
accustomed  to  be  cherished  by  her  luisband  and 
daugliter,  and  hitherto  sheltered  by  fortune  from  the 
storms  of  life,  pined  under  her  calamities.  The  shocks 
which  she  endured  in  that  dreadful  night,  when  her 
house  was  burned,  and  her  husband  and  daughter 
were  snatched  from  her  to  be  earned,  she  knew  not 
whither,  almost  bereft  her  of  existence.  She  had  not 
the  stubborn  qualities  which  might  have  enabled  lier 
to  rally  her  strength  and  spirits.  No  consolation 
could  lift  her  from  despondency.  Sorrow  withered  her 
strength  and  her  health  vanished.  Her  form  wasted 
away.  She  lay  night  and  day,  scarcely  uttering  a 
word  but  the  names  of  her  husband  and  daughter. 
Life  waned  in  her  until  it  became  the  shadow  of 
death. 


260  ROEBUCK. 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

ALBERT     palmer's     LOVE. 

When  Mr.  Palmer,  on  the  night  of  the  fire  at  Roe- 
buck, had  opened  his  door,  he  was  informed  by  his 
son  that  Miss  Fairfjix  was  there,  desiring  refuge  and 
repose,  in  consequence  of  the  destruction  of  her 
father's  house.  "No,  no,"* she  cried,  "  I  am  brought 
here  against  my  will,  and  I  implore  you  to  let  rae  go 
home."  But  Albert  Palmer  thrust  her  in,  and  drew 
her  to  the  parlor,  where  he  placed  her  on  a  sofo.  He 
then  requested  his  father  to  get  a  light  and  to  sum- 
mon his  mother  to  the  care  of  their  guest. 

When  Mr.  Palmei*  returned,  with  his  wife  and  a 
light,  Julia  sat  on  the  sofa,  with  her  hands  clasped  on 
her  lap  and  her  head  drooping.  She  wore  no  bonnet, 
and  her  brown  hair,  dishevelled,  flowed  down  over 
her  shoulders  and  bosom.  She  was  pale  as  death. 
Her  lips  were  slightly  parted.  She  breathed  quickly. 
Her  breast  heaved  with  agitation.  Her  dress,  hastily 
put  on  while  she  was  attending  to  her  alarmed  mother, 
was  in  disorder.  Her  feet  were  bare.  Even  Albert 
Palmer  was  startled  when  he  beheld  that  figure  of 
beautiful  desolation.  His  parents  stood  in  mute  won- 
der. Julia,  lifting  her  eyes,  discovered  that  one  of 
hor  own  sex  had  entered  the  room,  and  springing 
from  the  sofa,  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  Mrs.  Palmer, 
clasping  her  knees  and  turning  up  her  foce,  Avith  tears 
raining  from  her  eyes,  while  she  appealed  in  broken 
accents  to  a  woman's  compassion  for  a  woman. 


ROEBUCK.  261 

"  O,  save  me,"  she  cried  ;  "let  me  go  to  my  father 
and  mother.  I  liave  been  cruelly  torn  from  them. 
Their  house  is  destroyed.  My  father  is  wounded. 
My  mother  is  in  distress.  They  may  be  dying.  I 
know  not  what  is  to  become  of  them  this  dreadful 
night.  Let  me  go  to  them.  You  have  a  woman's 
heart.  O,  have  pity  on  a  broken-hearted  girl.  Release 
me,  O,  release  me." 

"  Rise,  Miss  Fairfax,"  said  Albert  Palmer,  taking 
her  by  the  hand ;  "  you  know  not  what  you  say.  You 
are  distracted  with  grief  Mother,  there  has  been  a 
terrible  scene  to-night.  Miss  Fairfax  needs  repose. 
We  must,  for  her  own  good,  do  some  gentle  violence 
to  her  wishes.  Please  conduct  her  to  a  chamber  and 
persuade  her  to  take  some  rest." 

"  Hypocrite  and  tyrant !"  exclaimed  Julia,  rising  to 
her  feet,  "you  are  my  enemy — my  father's  foe — a 
traitor  to  my  country.  You  are  leagued  with  invaders 
and  oppressors.  To  you  we  owe  the  calamities  of 
this  night.  You  hold  me  a  prisoner.  You  have  torn 
me  from  my  parents.  O,  my  father !  O,  my  poor 
mother!"  Again  she  sunk  upon  the  floor,  dissolved 
in  tears,  and  sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

In  a  few  moments  she  rose  again  and  ran  towards 
the  door,  saying,  "  I  will  go  to  them."  But  Albert 
Palmer  intercepted  her,  seized  her,  and,  can-ying  her 
to  a  chamber,  told  his  mother  to  follow  him.  When 
they  had  entered  the  room  he  left  the  two  ladies 
there,  locked  the  door,  and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket. 
He  returned  to  his  father,  and  after  relating  to  him 
the  events  of  the  night,  explained  to  him  his  plan 
with  reference  to  Miss  Fairfax.  She  was,  he  said, 
without  a  home.  Her  father  was  a  prisoner,  under 
grave  accusations.     He  might  be  long  detained  or 


2G2  ROEBUCK. 

sent  out  of  the  State.  His  property  might  be  taken 
from  him.  But  if  Julia  should  become  Mrs.  Palmer 
it  would  probably  be  restored,  if  not  to  Colonel  Fair- 
fax, at  least  to  his  daughter,  through  the  influence  of 
her  new  relatives.  The  hope  of  thus  relieving  her 
parents  and  of  procuring  the  liberation  of  her  father 
through  the  same  influence,  he  believed,  would  induce 
her  to  accept  his  hand.  The  greater  the  distress  and 
danger  of  her  father  might  become,  the  more  she 
would  be  inclined  to  accede  to  measures  necessary  for 
liis  relief  Perhaps  it  would  be  expedient  to  have 
Colonel  Fairfax  sent  to  Washington,  so  that  the  hopes 
and  fears  of  his  daughter,  depiived  of  communication 
with  him,  and  uncertain  as  to  his  fate,  might  render 
her  more  pliant.  Of  course,  Mr.  Palmer  and  his  son 
would  ultimately  procure  his  release,  as  well  as  the 
possession  of  his  property,  and  his  daughter  w^ould 
be  provided  with  a  husband  and  a  home.  This  scheme . 
appeared  to  the  elder  Palmer  so  Avise  and  benevolent, 
that  he  cheerfully  consented,  at  his  son's  request,  to 
keep  Miss  Fairfax  in  his  house  and  to  visit  Colonel 
Wesel  the  next  day,  as  we  have  seen  he  <iid. 

Mrs.  Palmer  was  ignorant  of  this  plan  when  she 
found  herself  shut  up  in  a  chamber  with  Miss  Fairfax, 
and  she  had  nothing  to  guide  her  conduct  but  confi- 
dence in  her  son  and  obedience  to  his  wishes.  She 
could  not  frame  a  suitable  speech,  but  she  put  her 
arms  about  Julia  and  gently  urged  her  to  a  bed,  be- 
seeching her,  in  a  motherly  way,  to  sleep.  The  un- 
happy young  lady  lay  down  without  resistance,  and 
remained  for  several  hours,  not  sleeping,  but  weeping, 
with  her  eyes  closed  and  her  arms  folded  over  her 
bosom,  without  speech  or  motion.  She  was  alone, 
friendless,  hopeless.     She  was  exhausted  in  mind  and 


ROEBUCK.  2G3 

body,  by  the  fatigues,  the  sniTerings  and  the  terrors 
of  that  night.  At  length,  when  the  day  was  break- 
ing, nature  yielded  to  slumber,  and  she  endured, 
rather  than  enjoyed,  for  an  hour,  a  dreamy,  restless 
sleep.  She  awoke  with  a  more  vivid  sense  of  afflic- 
tion. 

In  the  morning,  Mrs.  Palmer  was  released  from 
confinement  by  her  son,  who  intimated  his  plan  to 
her,  and  while  his  father  was  calling  on  Colonel 
Wesel,  sent  her  with  his  compliments  to  Miss  Fair- 
fax, and  requested  permission  to  wait  upon  the  young 
lady  in  her  chamber.  She  desired  him  to  excuse  her, 
and  even  protested  against  his  visit.  But  be  de- 
clared that  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  see  her,  and 
his  message  to  that  effect  was  immediately  followed 
by  himself  He  drew  up  a  chair  to  sit  beside  her,  but 
she  rose,  and  remained  standing.  He  made  no  allu- 
sion to  her  movement,  but  in  cool  and  civil  tones  pro- 
ceeded to  address  her. 

"Miss  Fairfax,  misled  by  appearances,  you  have 
placed  an  en-oncous  construction  upon  my  conduct. 
I  came  to  offer  you  an  explanation."  He  paused,  but 
receiving  no  reply,  he  resumed.  "  You  have  thought 
me  unkind  to  you,  but  really  my  motives  have  been 
more  than  kind.  In  all  that  I  have  done,  I  have 
aimed  at  your  welfare  and  happiness.  Perhaps  the 
ardor  of  my  affection  for  you  has  impelled  me  too  far. 
I  could  not  avert  the  misfortune  which  has  befallen 
your  family.  I  could  not  rescue  your  parents  from  the 
military.  I  saved  yourself  in  the  only  way  that  was 
possible.  I  brought  you  to  my  father's  house  for 
shelter.  Now,  I  offer  you  a  home  for  life.  My 
heart  has  long  been  yom's.  I  now  offer  you  my 
hand." 


264  ROEBUCK. 

While  he  delivered  this  speeoli  with  sedate  manner 
and  level  voice,  Julia  stood  with  averted  face,  appa- 
rently unmoved.  When  he  ceased  to  speak,  she 
turned  her  eyes  full  upon  him,  and  still  restraining 
her  emotion,  she  said,  "  Mr.  Palmer,  your  motives  are 
known  to  yourself  If  you  would  prove  to  me  thxit 
they  are  kind,  set  me  free." 

'•  I  have  proved  more — my  love.  I  offer  you  the 
strongest  proof  of  love." 

"Surely,  you  would  not  hold  me  a  captive,  and 
take  advantage  of  my  captivity  to  press  a  suit  which 
has  once  been  respectfully  declined." 

"  Ix)ve,  my  dear  lady,  is  blind  to  circumstances, 
and  deaf  to  refusal.  Let  me  believe  that  time  has 
rendered  you  more  favorable  to  my  wishes.  "Let  me 
hope  that  you  will  give  me  a  right  to  protect  you  in 
all  dangers  and  difficulties.  Until  you  decide  upon 
my  proposal,  I  cannot  consider  any  other  subject." 

'•  If  that  is  a  covert  threat,  I  must  speak  without  re- 
serve, and  tell  you  that  there  is  an  insurmountable 
barrier  to  your  proposal.  Let  the  subject  be  dis- 
missed forever." 

"  I  cannot  imagine  a  barrier  really  insurmountable, 
Miss  Fairfax.     May  I  ask  what  it  is  ]" 

"  I — yes — my  hand  is  promised  to  another." 

"Indeed!"  he  said,  commencing  his  reply  in  the 
measm'ed  accents  which  had  hitherto  mocked  his  vic- 
tmi,  but  the  avowal  of  an  engagement  with  a  rival 
whom  he  hated  already,  because  he  believed  him  to 
be  a  successful  rival,  roused  his  anger,  and  as  he  went 
on,  he  spoke  with  manifest  asperity;  "such  engage- 
ments are  not  usually  deemed  irrevocable  by  young 
ladies.  Times  have  changed.  When  I  shall  convince 
you  that  the  person  to  whom  you  have  incautiously 
promised  your  hand  is  unworthy" 


'  11  O  E  B  U  C  K  .  2G5 

"  Unwortliy,  sir !  Can  a  gentleman  disparage  a 
rival'?  Can  a  man  traduce  the  absent?  Can  a  being 
with  a  heart  insult  a  captive  lady  by  maligning  her 
affianced '?  Hugh  Fitzhugh  is  that  which  you  prove 
yourself  not  to  be — a  man  and  a  gentleman." 

"  I  admire  your  spirit,  Miss  Fairfax,  but  you  have 
not  quite  fathoined  the  question.  There  are  other  af- 
fections and  obligations  sometimes  to  be  considered, 
even  before  a  girl's  fancy  for  a  lover.  Your  love  and 
duty  to  your  father" 

*'  My  dear,  my  noble  father !  What  can  you  tell 
me  of  him  V 

"That,  in  disposing  of  your  hand,  you  may  do  well 
to  consider  his  safety." 

"  I  do  not  understand.  What  threat  lurks  in  your 
words  and  sneer  ?" 

"  Be  seated,  Miss  Fairfox.  Let  us  discuss  this  mat- 
ter rationally.  You  will  not  sit?  Well,  as  you 
please.  You  are  aware  that  he  is  wounded,  and  a 
prisoner." 

"  O,  Heavenly  Father,  protect  him." 

"  He  will  be  sent  to  Washington." 

"  To  Washington  ?" 

"  And  detained  there  as  a  prisoner  of  state." 

"A  prisoner  of  state!  Then  he  is  lost.  May 
Iloaven  have  mercy  on  him,  for  man  will  have 
none." 

"  He  can  be  saved." 

"  How  ?  Tell  me  how.  I  will  bless  you,  as  our 
good  angel." 

"  It  depends  upon  yourself  alone." 

"  Thank  God !  Then  he  will  be  saved.  Bid  me 
toil,  sufler,  die  to  save  him,  and  he  shall  be  saved." 

"  There  is  no  need  of  toil,  or  suffering,  or  death. 

12 


^QQ  ROEBUCK. 

Throngh  the  influence  of  my  father  and  myself,  I 
doubt  not," he  can  be  released.  K  in  bestowinr^  your 
hand" ,        °  ^ 

«  O,  horror." 

"You  give  me  a  right  to  solicit  a  favor  to  voir 
family  as  a  fovor  to  myself;  the  loyalty  of  my  family, 
and  my  services  may  be  accounted  as  an  atonement 
for  the  guilt  of  your  father,  and  we  may  procure  his 
release.  I  have  received  some  tokens  of  considera- 
tion in  high  quart ei*s.  My  father  is  trusted  by  the 
authorities.  But  it  would  be  useless,  it  might  be 
deemed  offensive  if  we  were  to  intercede  for  an  ob- 
noxious person  having  no  claims  upon  iis.  Family 
ties  would  entitle  us  to  ask  that  he  be  restored  to  us. 
It  depends  upo»  yourself  alone  to  release  your  father 
fi-om  captivity." 

While  he  was  speaking.  Julia's  head  sunk  down 
upon  her  breast,  and  tears  streamed  from  her  eyes. 
At  last  she  fell  upon  her  knees  before  him,  and  im- 
plored him  to  be  merciful. 

"You  say  you  have  power  to  save  him.  O,  save 
my  father,  and  spare  his  A^Tetched  child.  Do  not — 
do  not  annex  a  cruel  condition  to  an  act  of  mercy. 
Respect  my  truth.  Spare  my  grief  O,  save  my 
father." 

"  Rise,  Miss  Fairfax.  This  abasement  is  unneces- 
sary. Your  father  s  safety  rests  with  yourself  Yoa 
understand  the  condition." 

"  Then  you  are  inexorable  f 

"  I  am."' 

"O,  my  father!  Would  that  his  wisdom  could 
now  dh-ect  me.     Will  you  not  let  me  consult  him  V* 

"  Xo." 

"  Wounded — a  prisoner — sent  away  to  perish  in  a 


ROEBUCK.  267 

cell..    If  my  death  could  save  him!     If  anything  bwt 

falsehood  and  dishonor •     Sir,  I  am  alone.     You 

will  not  let  me  consult  my  father.  I  must  recall,  then, 
the  lessons  he  has  taught  me.  I  will  be  true,  and 
have  the  consequences  to  Heaven.  I  cannot  violate 
my  engagement  without  perfidy.  I  cannot  become 
your  wife  without  falsehood.  I  will  preserve  my  truth." 

"  Then  you  reject  me  again.  Miss  V 

"  I  can  give  no  other  answer." 

"  Reflection  may  change  your  mind.  Good  morn- 
ing. Miss  Fairfax." 

He  left  the  room.  Julia  threw  herself  upon  the 
bed  and  gave  way  to  a  conflict  of  emotions.  Some- 
times she  reproached  herself,  and  was  ready  to  recall 
Palmer  and  submit  to  his  terms,  rather  than  leave  her 
father  in  captivity  and  in  danger  of  a  more  terrible 
fate.  But  his  image  rising  before  her  mind,  rebuked 
her  meditated  falsehood.  She  thought  of  him  as, 
while  she  sat  upon  his  knee,  he  had  often  taught  her 
the  lessons  of  truth  and  fortitude  and  faith.  His  sim- 
ple dignity  and  loving  authority  again  impressed  her 
heart  as  they  had  impressed  it  in  her  childhood.  She 
felt  assured  that  he  would  approve  her  decision.  He 
would  sacrifice  himself  for  truth  and  for  her  happi- 
ness— ah,  yes,  that  thought  of  her  own  happiness 
again  awakened  self-reproach.  Her  happiness  was 
involved  in  the  question  of  her  father's  safety.  Her 
love  for  Plugh  Fitjshugh,  thrilling  her  whole  frame  at 
that  moment,  mighj  it  not  be  selfish  ?  Ought  she  to 
sacrifice  her  father  to  her  own  happiness "?  She  was 
racked  with  doubt.  Her  soul,  exhausting  itself  in 
agitation  and  perplexity,  wavered  and  groped  for  the 
path  of  duty.  Believing  that  she  had  done  right,  and 
yet  doubting,  she  sunk  at  last  to  sleep,  through  phy- 


208  K  (}  E  B  I!  C  K . 

sical  and  mental  weariness.  She  slept  several  Itonr;^. 
Wlieu  she  awoke,  Mrs.  Palmer  sat  at  her  be<lsi<le. 
Tljat  fluent  lady,  having  a  speech  ready,  began  at  once : 

"These  are  sad  times,  Miss  Fairfax.  Jlut  t /upon 
m'ft'in'ur,  you  know.  You  have  lost  one  home  but 
you  are  offered  another — the  darkest  hour  is  just  be- 
fore the  dawn  — We  must  bow  to  the  decrees  of  Pro- 
vidence -^-When  we  submit  a  cause  to  the  arbitrament 
of  arms  wo  must  abide  the  event. — We  have  deter- 
mined Avhat  id  best  for  you,  and  you  should  be  thank- 
ful.— Albert's  plan  is  the  best  for  all-  parties — His 
father  thinks  so,  and  he  is  very  wise  — Albert  is  one 
of  the  kindest  men  alive  — You  "vvill  think  so  when 
you  know  him  better — I  have  always  said  he  was. — 
He  is  firm — very  firm — justique  tenorem  Jlectere  non 
odium  cogit  non  gratia  suadet,  as  the  poet  says — he 
never  gives  up  a  project. — So,  my  dear  Miss  Fairfax, 
you  had  better  consent " • 

"  Mrs.  Palmer,  you  seem  to  be  an  accomplice  in 
yom'  son's  scheme,  which  I  begin  to  comprehend. 
My  com'se  is  taken.  If  you  are  appointed  to  be  ray 
jailer,  I  will  thank  you  to  spare  me  your  lecture.  If 
you  are  permitted  to  leave  me  alone,  I  beg  you  to 
grant  me  that  relief" 

'•  Albert  thinks  that  in  your  present  frame  of  mind 
solitude  would  not  be  good  for  you. — SolUudincm 
ficiuut  et  pacem  appellant. — That  is  not  right — it  is 
not  good  for  man  to  be  alone,  nor  woman  either,  as 
the  Bible  says  " 

*'  Then  let  me  have  silence,  I  pray  you." 

In  the  evening  of  that  day,  and  during  the  next 
day,  the  importunate  suitor  repeated  his  visits,  and 
endeavored,  by  every  art  at  his  command,  to  over- 
come the   reluctance  of  his    captive  to  become  lus 


ROEBUCK.  2G9 

bride.  Wlien  her  faculties  had  recovered  from  the 
first  shock  of  calamity,  she  was  able  to  detect  the 
drift  of  his  plot,  and  to  weigh  his  threats  and  his 
persuasions  with  a  clear  judgment.  She  doubted  no 
more  as  to  her  duty.  He  found  her  purpose  immova- 
ble. His  persecution  sonfetimes  wrung  tears  from 
her  eyes,  and  sometimes  provoked  her  to  repel  him 
with  indignant  scorn.  He  was  neither  melted  by  her 
sorrow  nor  shaken  by  her  scorn.  His  cruelty  was 
cool,  but  he  was  not  insensible  to  the  impression  of 
beauty  that  vai'ied  with  her  varying  passion.  Love 
for  one  whom  he  tortured  was  impossible ;  but  the 
toi'ture  revealed  charms  in  the  victim  that  kindled 
desire  in  a  pitiless  breast. 


270  ^ROEBUCK. 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

MARK   MAKLIN. 

About  senset  on  the  second  day  of  her  imprison- 
ment; the  chamber  in  which  Miss  Faiifaix  was  de- 
tained, was  again  entered  by  Albert  Palmer.  She 
arose  and  stood  as  she  always  did  while  he  was  in  the 
room,  thus  silently  protesting  against  his  intrusion. 
He  advanced,  addressing  her  in  words  of  ordinary 
salutation,  with  an  air  of  deferential  courtesy.  Re- 
ceiving no  response,  he  proceeded  to  speak  in  a  strain 
of  sentiment,  which  became  warmer  as  he  went  on, 
and,  finally,  less  delicate.  With  some  ardor  of  expres- 
sion on  his  lips  and  in  his  eyes,  he  moved  towards 
her,  with  an  arm  extended,  as  if  he  would  lay  his  hand 
upon  her.  Stepping  backward  she  waved  him  off, 
and  said,  quietly,  but  decisively,  "no  nearer,  sir." 
He  paused,  clasped  his  hands  together,  and  spoke  in 
an  obsequious  tone : 

"  Ah,  my  dear  Julia,  do  not  continue  to  trample  on 
my  love." 

"  Mr.  Palmer,"  she  replied,  "  I  beg  that  this  insult- 
ing mockery  shall  cease." 

"  Then  you  doom  your  father  to  a  dungeon  ?"  he 
asked,  with  a  sneer. 

"  My  duty  to  my  father,  sir,  is  not  a  subject  for  dis- 
cussion between  you  and  me.    Use  it  not  to  barb  your 
taunts.     I  am  now  proof  against  them.     I  know  you 
now  and  I  despise  you,  I  detest  you,  I  defy  you." 
.     He  tm*ned  to  the  chamber  door  and  locked  it.     He 


n  C)  K  B  U  C  K  .  271 

then  returned  towards  Julia,  his  eyes  glaring  with 
ignoble  passions.  "By  Heaven,"  he  cried,  "you 
shall  consent  to  marriage  or  prate  no  more  of  honor." 
She  retired  before  him,  but  springing  forward,  he 
attempted  to  seize  her^  She  eluded  his  grasp  by  step- 
ping up  on  the  bed.  Retreating  to  the  opposite  side 
of  it,  which  was  against  a  wall,  she  stood  there  in  Oi 
posture  of  defiance,  pointing  a  pistol  at  Palmer.  Her 
movements,  as  well  as  his,  were  so  rapid  that  his  face 
almost  touched  the  weapon  before  he  was  aware  that 
she  held  it.  Seeing  it  then,  he  started  back  with  a 
gesture  of  fear,  and  stood  in  a  shrinking  attitude,  gat- 
ing at  the  pistol.  While  they  thus  confronted  each 
other,  they  heard  a  light  rap  on  the  door,  and  under- 
stood that  Mrs.  Palmer  desired  admittance.  He  slowly 
retreated  to  the  door  and  opened  it.  As  he  retired, 
Julia  descended  from  the  bed.  She  had  restored  the 
little  weapon  to  her  pocket  when  Mrs.  Palmer  entered, 
and  her  son,  scowling  at  Julia,  went  out. 

The  small  pistol  which  Julia  had  held  in  her  hand, 
rather  a  toy  than  a  weapon,  was  one  which  her  father 
had  procured  for  her  after  she  had  been  endangered 
by  negroes,  as  related  in  the  preceding  pages.  He 
gave  her  some  lessons  in  the  use  of  it,  so  that  she 
might  be  able  to  defend  herself  in  sudden  peril,  such 
as  the  recent  events  and  the  condition  of  the  country 
led  him  to  apprehend.  She  seldom  earned  it,  how- 
ever, and  it  was  by  chance  that,  when  she  was  prepar- 
ing to  flee  from  the  mansion  of  Roebuck,  she  put  on  a 
gown,  in  the  pocket  of  which  the  pistol  had  been  left. 
1ji  the  excitements  of  that  night  she  did  not  observe 
it,  but  she  discovered  it  the  next  day.  She  remem- 
bered it  when  Palmer  attempted  to  seize  her,  and 
instantly  availed  herself  of  it,  as  we  have  seen,  for  her 
defence. 


272  Pv  O  E  B  U  C  K  . 

When  she  was  af^aiii  left  with  Mrs.  Palmer  she 
walked  to  and  fro,  agitated  with  an  indignant  sense 
of  insult  and  outrage.  She  uttered  no  word  of 
complaint  to  the  mother  and  agent  of  lier  persecutor. 
Her  spirit  was  bruised,  but  it  was  roused.  Still  alone, 
in  the  power  of  her  enemies,  she  defied  them.  She 
would  not  bow  before  a  foe  who  left  her  uo  choice  but 
between  defiance  and  dishonor. 

Night  came  on,  but,  at  Julia's  request,  the  room 
was  not  lighted.  She  sat  down  by  a  window  and 
looked  out  at  the  sky.  Mrs.  Palmer,  seated  in  a  rock- 
ing chair  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  chamber,  l)egan 
to  yawn,  and  finally  fell  asleep.  The  night  was  clear 
and  still.  While  Julia  gazed  at  the  bright  stars,  her 
excitement  gradually  abated.  When  her  veins  yet 
thi-obbed  with  passion,  the  quiet  heavens  seemed  to 
her  imagination  to  regard  with  cruel  indifference 
the  woes  and  crimes  of  earth.  But  as  the  tide  of  vio- 
lent emotion  subsided,  higher  and  serener  sentiments 
responded  more  faithfully  to  the  sublime  sense  of  that 
eternal  quiet.  "  It  is  not  indifference  to  AVi'ong,"  she 
said  to  herself,  "  that  we  should  read  in  those  sleep- 
less eyes  of  Heaven,  but  their  far-seeing  watch  regards 
the  end  as  well  as  the  beginning  of  these  dark  scenes 
in  which  we  grope  and  suffer.  Then*  serene  silence  is 
the  homage  of  nature  to  the  unerring  Providence 
which  guides  all  events  on  earth  as  in  Heaven. 
Darkling,  but  not  dismayed,  I  will  endeavor  to  walk 
by  the  light  that  comes  from  above,  and  trust  the 
consequences  to  Him  who  oi-dain*s  right  and  redresses 
evil." 

While  her  mind  was  composing  itself  by  such  re- 
flections, she  was  startled  by  the  sight  of  a  man's  head 
near  the  window.  Wondering,  but  rather  hoping  thar 


ROEBUCK.  273 

fearing,  she  leaned  lier  face  against  the  pane  and 
looked  out  into  the  dark.  She  discovered  that  the 
man  was  upon  a  ladder,  and  as  he  drew  near  to  the 
window,  he  made  a  sign  of  silence  to  her.  She  did 
not  recognize  him,  but  believing  that  all  her  enemies 
were  within  the  house,  she  readily  concluded  that  he 
was  a  friend.  Listening  for  the  deep  breathing  of 
Mrs.  Palmer,  and  being  thus  assured  that  she  still 
slept,  Julia  opened  the  sash  quietly  and  heard  hei 
name  whispered.  "What  do  you  want  ?'  she  whis- 
pered, in  reply.  "  Follow  me  ;"  and  the  man  descended 
the  ladder.  Dreading  no  danger  equal  to  that  v>^hich 
she  left  behind,  she  followed  without  hesitation. 
When  they  were  upon  the  ground,  the  man,  who  was 
then  seen  to  wear  the  Confederate  uniform,  led  her  in 
silence  to  a  clump  of  trees  at  some  distance  from  the 
house.  There  they  found  another  person,  mounted, 
and  holding  the  bridles  of  two  horses.  There  was  a 
woman's  saddle  on  one  of  them,  and,  as  Julia  soon 
discovered,  this  was  her  favorite,  Arab.  First  assisting 
her  to  mount,  her  conductor  got  upon  his  horse  and 
the  three  rode  away  through  the  fields.  They  moved 
cautiously,  and  not  a  word  was  spoken  until,  after  rid- 
ing a  mile  or  more,  they  entered  a  wood. 

"  Now,  Miss  Fairfax,"  said  the  man  who  released 
her,  and  whom  she  recognized  as  Lieutenant  Mark 
Marlin,  while  she  knew  his  companion  to  be  Baxter, 
"  we  are  safe  for  the  .present.  It  is  for  you  to  say 
where  we  shall  go." 

"  To  my  father,  if  I  can,"  she  replied. 
"  We  hear  that  he  has  bsen  sent  out  of  the  county." 
"  Alas,  it  is  true,  then.     Let  me  go  to  my  mother." 
"  We  will  conduct  you  to  her.     She  is  now  about 
ten  miles  from  here.     We  must  ride  pretty  briskly  if 


274  K  O  E  B  U  C  K . 

you  plexse,  because,  after  leaving  you,  we  must  travel 
as  far  as  we  can  before  morning,  for  our  own  safety  and 
and  to  rejoin  our  regiment." 

As  tiiey  rode  rapidly  and  cautiously  over  rough  by- 
ways to  avoid  pursuit,  they  could  hold  but  little  con- 
versation. Julia,  however,  learned  from  Marlin  what 
he  knew  about  her  mother,  and  that  Baxter  had  ob- 
tained from  blind  Pete  the  information  on  which  they 
had  acted  in  facilitating  her  escape.  Thus  they  knew 
in  what  chamber  Miss  Fairfax  was  detained,  wjiere 
her  horse  could  be  found,  where  a  laddei*  was  kept, 
and  other  particulars,  the  knowledge  of  which  made  this 
enterprise  tolerably  safe  and  easy  to  the  two  Confede- 
rates. Her  horse  had  been  taken  from  Roebuck  by 
the  Federal  soldiers,  but,  by  order  of  Colonel  Wesel, 
was  delivered  to  Mr.  Palmer,  at  that  gentleman's  re- 
quest. He  stated  to  the  colonel  that  the  young  lady 
had  taken  refuge  in  his  house,  and  insinuated  that  she 
did  not  agree  with  her  father  in  political  sentiment 
and  that  she  might  possibly  become  connected  witt 
his  own  family.  These  representations  served  not 
only  to  secure  the  possession  of  her  horse,  but  to 
silence  inquiry,  if  it  should  otherwise  become  known 
to  the  colonel  that  Miss  Fairfax  was  at  Mr.  Palmer's. 
Baxter,  after  his  escape  from  the  village,  concealed 
himself  in  the  neighborhood  until  the  next  morning, 
and  then  starting  to  overtake  his  regiment,  he  fell  in 
with  Mark  Marlin,  who  had  come  home  to  take  care 
of  his  sister.  Xotwithstanding  his  own  affliction  and 
the  sad  duties  which  the  death  of  his  sister  imposed 
upon  him,  the  lieutenant,  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  Miss 
Fairfax's  situation,  resolved  to  rescue  her.  He  imme- 
diately set  about  the  attempt,  with  Baxter's  assist- 
ance, and  we  have  seen  the  result 


ROEBUCK.  275 

Arriving  before  the  liouse  in  wliich  Mrs.  Fairfax 
was  then  a  guest,  Marlin  informed  Julia  tliat  he  and 
his  companion  must  leave  her,  and  requested  that 
their  presence  in  the  county  might  not  be  mentioned, 
until  they  would  have  time  to  travel  beyond  the  reacli 
of  the  enemy. 

'*  How  can  I  ever  thank  you  as  you  deserve,  gen- 
tlemen V*  said  Julia. 

"  I  am  still  your  debtor,  Miss  Fair/ax ;  but,  if  you 
please,-  we  will  leave  these  things  to  be  spoken  of 
some  other  time ;"  replied  Marlin,  to  whom  Baxter 
left  the  conversation  with  Miss  Fairfax  ;  for  his  own 
audacity  was  cowed,  and  his  saucy  tongue  was  mute 
in  presence  of  a  lady  whom  he  was  obliged  to 
respect. 

"  I  know,"  she  said,  "  that  I  must  not  detain  you, 
and  I  fear  that  already  your  delay,  for  my  sake,  has 
exposed  you  to  danger.  Never  can  I  cease  to  be 
gt-ateful  to  you.  In  happier  times,  for  us  all,  I  hope, 
I  may  be  able  to  prove  my  gratitude." 

"  Have  you  any  message  for  the  regiment — the 
boys,  Miss  Fairfax." 

"  Tell  the  brave  men  that  the  hearts  of  their  country 
women  are  always  with  them.  May  God  bless  them. 
Tell  Colonel  Fitzhugh  that — that  I — I  have  not  for 
gotten  him." 

"  You  remember,  then,  as  gallant  a  soldier  as  ever 
drew  a  sword.     Farewell,  Miss  Fairfax." 

"Farewell,  Mr.  Marlin;  farewell,  Mr.  Baxter.  I 
shall  never  forget" 

Baxter  briefly  echoed  her  farewell,  while  she  shook 
hands  with  them  both,  and  they  hurried  away  before 
she  concluded  the  sentence.  Julia,  alone,  approached 
the  house  in  which  she  expected  to  meet  her  mother. 


276  ROEBUCK. 

At  that  late  hour  all  was  silent,  but  alarms  were  then 
80  frequent,  that  every  family  was  alert.  As  soon  as 
she  knocked  at  the  door  an  upper  window  was  cau- 
tiously opened,  and  a  voice  inquired  who  was  there. 
She  gave  the  necessary  explanation,  and  was  admit- 
.ted.  Pier  mother,  who  slept  but  little,  recognized  her 
voice,  and  immediately  called  her  into  her  own  cham- 
ber. The  meeting  between  :hem  could  .not  be  with- 
out joy,  nor  yet  could  it  be  without  soitow.  To  be  thus 
united,  after  such  a  separation,  was  rapture.  To  re- 
mind each  other  of  the  absence,  suffering  and  danger 
of  another,  so  dear  to  both,  was  anguish.  In  smiles 
and  tears,  in  embraces  and  regrets,  in  convei-sation 
about  the  one  on  whom  their  anxious  thoughts  were 
centred,  they  spent  the  hours,  until  the  sun  was  high 
in  the  heavens.  It  was  not  until  tlie  flush  of  excite- 
ment faded  from  her  mother's  face,  and  the  pitiless 
light  of  day  fell  upon  it,  that  Julia  was  fully  aware  of 
the  ravages  that  terror  and  affliction  had  made  there. 
When  she  looked  upon  that  form  so  frail,  those 
cheeks  so  wan,  the  pallid  lips  and  the  sunken  eyes, 
apprehension  for  her  mother's  health  divided  her 
heart  with  anxiety  for  her  father's  safety. 

Julia's  sensibility  vras  both  delicate  and  warm. 
But  no  excess  of  feeling  ever  prevailed  long  over  the 
clear  judgment  and  steady  sense  of  duty  which  habi- 
tually regulated  her  conduct.  Under  a  delicate  sur- 
face of  feminine  beauty,  grace  and  tenderness,  her 
character  contained  a  strengtli  of  principle  whicli 
made  even  the  play  of  her  emotions,  like  the  vibra- 
tions of  a  watch-spring,  contribute  to  the  practical 
uses  of  life.  Her  sympathy  with  sickness  and  dis- 
tress did  not  vanish  in  sighs.  It  prompted  her  to 
give  relief  with  quiet  and  thoughtful  energy,  whilst 


ROEBUCK.  277 

only  the  extreme  gentleness  of  her  ministrations 
showed  how  much  of  another's  suffering  she  felt  as 
her  own.  Thus,  during  the  next  few  days,  she  de- 
voted herself  to  the  care  of  her  afflicted  mother. 
Knowing  her  tastes  and  habits,  anticipating  her  wants 
with  quick  intelligence,  providing  for  her  physical 
comfort  with  untiring  diligence,  her  daughter  also  en- 
deavored to  soothe  her  mind.  If  anything  could  have 
had  that  effect,  it  would  have  been  the  presence  of 
Julia.  Withdrawing  her  thoughts  from  her  own 
troubles  in  order  that  she  might  win  her  mother  from 
despondency,  she  became  almost  cheerful.  Her 
noiseless  step  seemed  rather  light  from  hope  than 
stealthy  from  fear.  When-  to  the  loveliness  of  her 
person,  and  the  sweetness  of  her  countenance,  was  ad- 
ded the  tender  earnestness  of  filial  affection,  she  looked, 
while  she  hovered  over  her  mother's  pillow,  as  if  her 
love  alone  might  dispel  all  gloom  from  the  brow  on 
which  her  soft,  white  hand  was  fondly  laid.  She  ex- 
erted all  the  charms  of  her  voice  and  conversation  to 
banish  the  spectre  of  despair  that  haunted  her  mother 
by  day  and  by  night.  Yet,  she  found  that,  as  the 
reader  already  knows,  the  delicate  lady  continued  to 
pine  and  v/aste  away.  Indeed,  Julia  became  con- 
vinced that  the  life  of  the  wife  depended  upon  the 
restoration  of  the  husband  to  liberty.  Father  and 
mother — the  lives  of  both,  she  believed,  were  in  peril, 
und  might  depend  on  the  same  contingency. 

When  she  had  arrived  at  this  conclusion,  her 
thoughts  uaturally  reverted  to  the  proposal  of  Palmer, 
which,  as  he  declared,  might  have  led  to  the  release 
of  her  fother.  But,  even  now,  she  could  not  repent 
that  she  had  rejected  it.  She  remembered  it  with 
increased  disgust,  when  it  appeared  to  her  as  a  profli- 


278  ROEBUCK.  , 

gate  proposal  to  traffic  with  two  lives  so  dear  to  her, 
so  worthy  of  honor,  and  so  afflicted.  But  it  was  not 
in  her  natiii'e  to  look  on  misery  without  an  effort  to 
relieve  it,  and,  least  of  all,  the  misery  of  her  own 
parents.  Her  mind  addressed  itself  with  customary 
directness  and  force  to  fhe  question  how  she  might 
procure  the  restoration  of  her  father  to  his  family. 
After  much  reflection,  she  came  to  a  resolution,  which 
she  first  disclosed  to  Mrs.  Fitzhuo:h. 

That  lady  treated  JuUa  as  a  daughter  and  shared  all 
her  cares  and  counsels.  She,  too,  believed  that  the 
days  of  Mrs.  Fairfiix  would  be  few  unless  her  husband 
were  released,  and  that  his  life  might  be  endangered  by 
his  imprisonment  under  the  actual  circumstances.  Of 
course,  she  participated  in  his  daughter's  desire  to 
obtain  his  liberation.  But  there  seemed  to  be  no 
means  within  the  power  of  the  two  women  to  effect 
that  object.  They  were  assured  that  the  Federal 
officer  commanding  in  the  county  was  hostile  t©  Col- 
onel Fairfax,  and  that  the  Palmers  were  accomplices 
in  the  oppression  practised  upon  him,  if  they  were  not 
the  instigators.  It  was  not  deemed  possible  to  induce 
those  men  to  relax  the  rigor  of  persecution  except 
upon  a  condition  known  only  to  Julia,  and  regarded 
by  her  with  horror.  The  two  ladies  discussed  the 
subject  several  times  without  a  satisfactory  result.  At 
last,  when  it  was  again  renewed,  Julia  said  to  Mrs. 
Fitzhugh — "I  believe  I  can  obtain  my  father's  re- 
lease." 

'*  How  is  it  possible,  my  dear  Julia  V 

"  I  will  go  to  Washington  and  petition  the  Federal 
authorities." 

''  You  are  a  brave  girl,  Julia,  to  make  such  an 
attempt,  but  it  would  be  useless." 


ROEBUCK.  279 

•  "  I  hope  not,  Mrs.  Fitzhugli,  but,  at  all  events,  I 
may  succeed,  and  there  appears  to  be  no  other  chance 
of  saving  their  lives.     I  will  try." 

"  What  rational  ground  can  you  find  to  hope  for 
success  ?  It  is  not  probable  that  you  will  ever  reach 
Washington.  I  say  nothing  of  the  dangers  by  the 
way,  for  I  know  you  will  not  be  deterred  by  them, 
and,  my  dear  child,  I  cannot  say  that  you  ought  to  be. 
But  if  you  were  in  Washington,  the  authorities  will 
certainly  act  according  to  the  reports  and  suggestions 
of  their  own  ofiicers  and  adherents  in  the  county. 
What  else  can  they  know  of  your  father  f 

"  That  seems  plausible.  But  I  imagine  that  men  in 
high  office  must  be  free  from  some  of  the  bitter  and 
vulgar  animosity  w^hich  is  apt  to  affect  inferior  agents. 
Besides,  they  are  remote  from  the  intrigues  of  this 
neighborhood.  Surely  there  is  some  one  in  authority 
who,  in  spite  of  political  virulence,  will  feel  compas- 
sion for  the  sufferings  of  so  good  a  man  and  of  his 
innocent  wife." 

"  Alas,  I  fear  that  the  military  among  us  are  but  too 
faithful  representatives  of  their  government.  Was  not 
Colonel  Tremaine  removed  to  make  room  for  the  pre- 
sent commander  V 

"  These  circumstances  and  many  others  are  discour- 
ac^ing.  But  I  have  reflected  upon  them  all.  I  see 
discouragement  but  not  impossibility.  Since  we  have 
thought  of  no  other  plan  that  is  even  within  the  range 
of  possibility,  I  am  resolved  to  try  this  one.  I  cannot 
sit  still  and  see  my  mother  die  without  an  effort  to  save 
her.  Even  the  hope  which  my  undertaking  will  inspire 
may  arrest  her  decline.  I  intreat  you,  if  you  can,  to 
encourage  her  and  to  remove  any  objection  that  she 
may  oppose  to  my  attempt." 


280  ROEBUCK. 

"  If  yoii  are  resolved,  I  will  not  continue  to  urge 
arguments  which  might  discourage  you  without 
changing  your  purpose.  But  how  do  you  intend  to 
travel  ?" 

'•  On  horseback  and  alone.  There  is  no  other 
way." 

"  You  cannot  pass  tlirough  the  Federal  lines  with- 
out a  passport. " 

'•  I  must  avoid  them.  Of  course,  I  cannot  obtain  a 
passport  from  those  who  have  sent  my  father  to 
Washington." 

"  I  am  not  thought  to  be  a  timid  woman,  Julia,  but 
the  dangers  of  such  a  journey  through  a  country  over- 
run with  armies,  marauding  parties  and  other  enemies, 
aj^pear  to  me — but  I  must  not  frighten  you." 

"  Oar  Heavenly  Father  will  shield  me." 

"  I  pray  tiiat  He  may." 

Mrs.  Fairfax,  when  informed  of  her  daughter's  pur- 
pose, shuddered  at  the  prospect  of  another  separation, 
and  di-eaded  the  perils  which  Julia  must  encounter. 
But  the  hope  of  seeing  her  husband  once  more,  with 
the  appeals  made  to  her  by  her  daughter,  and  the 
arguments  of  Mrs.  Fitzhugh,  overcame  her  opposition. 
After  the  matter  was  settled,  Julia  pleased  herself 
with  the  fancy  that  her  mother's  eyes  were  lighted  with 
more  animation  than  they  had  shown  since  the  night 
of  her  dausrhter's  retm*n  to  her. 


ROEBUCK.  .  281 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE    JOURNEY. 

But  little  delay  was  necessary  for  the  preparations 
which  Julia  had  to  make  for  her  long  and  dangerous 
journey.  Not  much  could  be  carried,  if  she  had  desired 
to  cany  much.  The  fire  which  destroyed  her  father's 
house  consumed  her  wardrobe,  and  country  ladies  had 
but  poor  opportunities  of  shopping  in  Dixie  during 
the  war.  She  might  be  ready  to  travel  almost  as  soon 
as  Arab  could  be  saddled.  She  had  no  money,  and 
could  obtain  none,  except  a  few  dollars  in  specie  and  a 
supply  of  treasury  notes,  which  were  almost  worthless 
beyond  the  Confederate  lines,  though  they  were  the 
exclusive  currency  of  the  Confederacy.  She  was  to 
travel  alone,  as  well  because  nearly  all  those  who  might 
have  been  her  protectors  were  in  the  army  or  driven 
from  the  county,  as  because,  in  the  country  through 
which  she  had  to  pass,  a  male  companion  might  chal- 
lenge annoyance  and  could  not  defend  her.  It  was  a 
country  where  even  an  army  of  Confederates  could  not 
hold  its  ground. 

With  a  brave  but  sad  heart  she  took  leave  of  her 
friends.  The  parting  between  her  and  her  mother 
v>'as  a  severe  affliction  to  both.  Tiie  hope  of  her  hus- 
band's release  sustained  Mrs.  Fairfax,  and  Julia,  im- 
pelled by  love  and  duty,  would  not  falter  at  the  first 
of  those  trials  which  she  had  anticipated.  Early  in 
the  morning  she  set  out  upon  her  solitary  journey, 
and  rode  nearly  the  entii'e  day  without  pausing  to  rest. 


282  -  ROEBUCir.  -^  i 

She  felt  but  little  fatigue.  She  was  a  delicate  woman, 
and  had  been  nurtured  in  wealth  and  refinement  but 
not  in  luxury.  The  habits  of  her  life  had  tended  to 
confirm  rather  than  enervate  her  strength,  both  of 
body  and  of  mind.  It  was  a  rare  state  *f  society  in 
which  nature  was  thus  refined  and  strengthened  at  the 
same  time,  as  u-on  is  changed  to  steel.  I 

During  the  first  day  she  traveled  through  a  part  of  * 
the  country  that  was  familiar  to  her.  Without  much 
difficulty  she  avoided  the  most  frequented  highways 
and  places  of  resort  for  the  Federals,  and  she  neither 
met  any  troops  nor  encountered  any  impediment. 
She  saw  but  few  people.  Not  many  remained  at 
home,  except  old  men,  women  and  children^  and  they 
generally  kept  close  to  their  houses.  Some  boys  and 
old  men  and  a  few  women  were  at  work  in  the  fields. 
Once  or  twice  Julia  saw  them  plowing,  with  cows. 
Horses  and  mules  were  not  to  be  seen.  Some  dwell- 
ings were  wholly  deserted ;  the  doors  and  windows 
were  broken  ;  the  fruit-trees  about  them  were  hacked 
down  ;  the  gardens  were  destroyed  ;  the  barns,  fences 
and  stacks  had  been  burned.  Here  and  there  brick 
chimneys  of  wooden  houses  that  had  been  devoured 
by  the  flames,  stood  as  milestones  of  invasion.  A  few 
slaves,  old,  decrepid  or  faithful,  remained  with  the  white 
inhabitants,  but  most  of  them  had  straggled  off.  Now 
and  then  Julia  passed  a  negro,  lying  asleep  at  the  way- 
side, with  his  shining  face  upturned  to  the  sun,  or  saw 
stout  black  fellows  strolling  about  in  listless  indolence. 
The  lethargy  of  that  race  seemed  to  forebode  a  relapse 
into  lazy  barbarism  as  soon  as  the  spur  and  rein  of 
the  white  man's  authority  were  withdrawn,  as  tiie 
neglected  soil  was  resuming  the  unfruitful  wildnes-i 
of  nature.     The   desolation   which   Julia   witnessed 


ROEBUCK.  283 

deepened  her  sadness.  But  it  is  impossible  to  record 
all  she  saw  and  thought  and  felt  on  that  journey  with- 
out overspreading  these  pages  with  intolerable  gloom. 
In  our  reminiscences  of  those  times  we  must  soften  the 
truth  if  we  would  obtain  a  hearing  or  belief 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  Julia  arrived  at  the  house  of 
a  friend,  and  there  she  spent  the  night.  She  heard  a 
rumor  there,  that  during  the  day  a  party  of  Federal 
soldiers  had  been  seen  within  a  few  miles  of  the  place. 
This  rumor,  however,  scarcely  added  a  new  fear  to 
the  constant  apprehension  that  her  journey  might  be 
interrupted.  The  next  morning  she  took  the  road 
again,  traveling  through  a  district  less  known  to  her 
than  that  through  which  she  had  passed  the  day  be- 
fore. She  was,  therefore,  obliged  to  keep  on  the 
main  highway.  When  she  had  pursued  her  solitary 
way  two  or  three  hours,  she  looked  back,  and  saw 
several  horsemen  about  a  mile  behind  her,  and  appa- 
rently moving  towards  her.  Fearing  they  were  Fed- 
eral soldiers,  she  put  her  horse  to  a  quicker  pace. 
They  followed,  however,  still  more  rapidly  than  she 
rode.  For  a  short  time  they  were  concealed  from  her 
by  a  hill  over  which  she  was  passing,  when  she  dis- 
covered them.  In  a  few  minutes  she  saw  them  gal- 
loping over  the  crest  of  the  hill,  not  more  than  half  a 
mile  from  her.  Then  she  imagined  that  she  could 
distinguish  the  tall  form  of  Albert  Palmer  among 
them. 

In  fact,  he  was  there.  He  had  not  discovered  her 
place  of  retreat  after  she  disappeared  from  his  father's 
house.  But,  being  with  some  cavalry,  that  were 
foraging  or  ravaging  near  the  place  at  which  she 
spent  the  first  night  of  her  journey,  he  learned  in  the 
morning  from  the  gossip  of  a  negro,  that  she  had  set 


284  ROEBUCK. 

out  from  tliere  alone.  Immediately  he  started,  with  a 
few  followers,  in  pursuit  of  her. 

As  soon  as  she  became  convinced  that  she  was  pur- 
sued and  suspected  that  Palmer  was  among  the  pur- 
suers, she  put  Arab  to  his  utmost  speed.  The  cavalry 
behind  her  used  theii-  spurs  freely.  Palmer,  dashing 
off  before  the  others,  came  on  at  a  furious  gait.  Julia, 
a  practiced  horse-woman,  on  a  fleet  and  spirited  horse, 
could  not  easily  be  overtaken  ;  but,  for  three  or  four 
miles,  the  chase  pressed  Arab  to  his  mettle.  The  gal- 
lant horse,  excited  by  the  race,  seemed  to  share  the 
determination  of  his  rider  to  distance  the  pursuers. 
Gradually  he  widened  the  space  between  him  and  the 
foremost  of  the  cavalry.  Relying  upon  his  qualities, 
Julia  rode  with  steady  courage,  until,  suddenly,  she 
beheld  a  cloud  of  dust  rising  from  the  road  before 
her.  'Suspecting  at  once  that  there  was  a  larger  body 
of  Federal  cavalry  in  front  of  her,  and  that  no  chance 
of  escape  was  left,  her  heart  sunk  for  a  moment.  But 
she  looked  back,  and  the  sight  of  Palmer,  in  eager 
pursuit,  reminded  her  that,  whatever  might  be  before 
her,  she  was  leaving  her  most  cruel  enemy  behind. 
She  resolved  to  go  forwai-d.  Onward  she  flew.  Her 
rapid  flight  soon  brought  her  in  sight  of  five  or  six 
horsemen  who  were  approaching  on  the  road  before 
her.  Onward  still  she  flew.  She  was  very  near 
tliem  before  she  could  discern,  under  the  dust  which 
covered  them,  that  their  uniforms  were  of  Confed- 
erate grey.  Checking  her  horse,  she  cried  out  to 
them — "  I  am  pm*sued  by  Federal  cavalry." 

"How  many f 

"  I  have  seen  ten  or  twelve.  One  of  them  rides 
far  in  advance  of  the  rest.  There!  He  comes  in 
sight." 


ROEBUCK.  285 

"  Ride  on,  madam.  You  are  safe.  Colonel  Fitz- 
hugh's  regiment  is  not  far  behind  us.  We  must  move 
forward." 

They  started  at  a  brisk  trot.  When  Palmer  saw 
them  first,  he  thought  they  must  be  Federals.  Ho 
was  almost  among  them  before  he  discovered  his  mis- 
tike.  Then,  wlieeling  his  horse,  he  was  pursued  in 
his  turn.  Julia  saw  no  more  of  him.  Riding  slowly 
on,  and  wondering  at  the  chance  which  brought  her 
so  unexpectedly  out  of  danger  into  the  protection  of 
Hugh  Fitzhugh,  she  saw  a  cloud  of  dust,  Avhich,  at  a 
considerable  distance,  indicated  the  approach  of  his 
regiment. 

A  spring,  near  the  side  of  the  road,  attracted  her 
attention,  and  she  stopped  to  rest  and  refresh  herself 
She  sat  down  on  the  grass,  near  the  spring,  and,  after 
drinking,  she  bathed  her  brows  with  her  hands.  The 
spring  was  shaded  by  trees  and  vines.  With  the  in- 
stinct of  a  woman,  expecting  a  lover,  she  arranged 
her  hair  and  dress,  while  she  waited  for  the  regiment 
to  come  up.  When  the  head  of  the  column  drew 
near,  she  stood  upon  a  grassy  knoll  near  the  spring, 
under  a  canopy  of  vines.  She  held  the  bridle,  while 
her  horse,  with  distended  nostrils,  ears  erect,  and 
arched  neck,  gazed  at  the  warlike  array.  Her  veil 
was  thrown  back,  her  fair  complexion  was  rosy  with 
excitement,  her  hazel  eyes  were  moistened  with  the 
mystery  of  tears  that  were  not  weeping,  and  her 
graceful  form  stood  a  picture  of  living  loveliness  in  a 
frame  of  sylvan  beauty. 

When  Hugh  Fitzhugh,  turning  Irom  the  dusty  road 
to  the  spring,  suddenly  beheld  her,  he  was  amazed, 
enraptured,  alarmed.  "My  Julia,"  he  exclaimed,  as 
he  leaped  from  his  horse,  and  ran  towards  her.     Has- 


286.  ROEBUCK. 

tening  to  meet  him,  she  threw  herself  into  his  arms, 
and  burst  into  tears. 

"  Julia,  my  own  Julia,  why  is  this  ?  Why  do  you 
weep  ?     Why  are  you  here  ?" 

For  some  moments  she  was  unable  to  answer  his 
anxiously  repeated  questions.  But  when  the  par- 
oxysm of  emotion  was  passed,  she  lifted  her  head,  and 
looked  in  his  face,  while  she  smiled  through  her 
tears. 

"  Pardon  me.  It  was  a  woman's  weakness.  I  weep 
for  joy  or  grief-^-I  know  not  why.  But  it  is  over.  1 
can  talk  to  you  now.  I  must  not  detain  you  long, 
and  I  have  much  to  say." 

Then,  glancing  at  the  cavalry,  she  blushed  deeply 
at  the  display  of  emotion  Avhich  she  had  made.  She 
drew  her  veil  over  her  face  and  whispered,  "  O,  for- 
give me,  Hugh."  He  pressed  her  hand,  and  was 
leading  her  to  a  seat,  when  they  heard  a  shout.  Al- 
ready her  name  was  passing  from  mouth  to  mouth, 
and  as  it  ran  along  the  ranks,  the  men  began  to  cheer 
for  Miss  Fairfax.  Many  of  them  knew  and  admired 
her.  Others  cheered,  because  they  loved  their  col- 
onel, and  knew  or  suspected  that  he  loved  her. 
Finally,  some  there  were  who  shouted,  simply  be- 
cause cheers  are  contagious.  At  all  events,  the  name 
of  Miss  Fairfax  was  echoed  with  clieers  along  the 
whole  line.  The  enthusiasm  waxed  warmer  and 
warmer,  until  Julia,  turning  her  face  to  the  regiment, 
raised  her  veil,  and  gracefully  acknowledged  the  bois- 
terous salutation. 

While  the  regiment  marched  on,  Hugli  Fitzhugh, 
seated  beside  Julia,  learned  from  her  the  circumstan- 
ces which  led  to  this  meeting.  They  were  soon  joined 
by  her  uncle,  Doctor  Dick,  who  had  been  with  his 


n  O  E  B  U  C  K  .  287 

company  since  the  opening  of  the  spring  campaign. 
•*  What,  Colonel  Julia,  have  you  come  to  take  com- 
mand in  person  ?"  he  exclaimed.  Then  he  shook  both 
her  hands  and  kissed  her  over  and  over.  It  was  not 
long,  however,  before  he  was  seriously  engaged  in  the 
discussion  to  which  Julia's  communication  gave  rise. 
BotJi  to  her  uncle  and  to  her  lover,  her  journey  ap- 
[>eared  too  hazardous,  and  the  object  of  it  wholly 
impracticable.  They  urged  her  to  abandon  it  and  re- 
turn with  them.  There  was  a  long  debate,  in  which 
their  solicitude  for  her  safety  contended  with  her 
anxiety  for  the  liberty  of  her  father  and  lives  of  both 
her  parents.  They  found  her  filial  devotion  invincible, 
and  nothino:  was  left  for  them  but  to  consider  how 
they  might  contribute  to  the  ease  and  safety  of  her 
journey.  Colonel  Fitzhugh  proposed  to  send  a  guard 
with  her,  but  gave  np  that  proposition  when  she  men- 
tioned her  reasons  for  traveling  alone.  The  doctor 
then  declared  that  he  would  himself  escort  her.  He 
Insisted  that,  with  his  servant,  Caleb,  he  could  relieve 
her  of  any  troubles  and  embarrassments  to  which  a 
woman  traveling  alone  was  liable,  and  that  a  little  old 
man,  as  he  styled  himself,  and  apoor  old  negro,  would 
not  provoke  more  hostility  than  a  lady.  She  doubted 
the  prudence  of  the  proposition,  and  would  have  saved 
her  uncle  from  dangers  which  were  useless.  But  he 
combated  her  objections  with  some  plausibility  of 
argument,  and  more  pertinacity  of  purpose.  He'  was 
seconded  by  her  lover,  and  finally  prevailed.  Colonel 
Fitzhugh  envied  the  doctor  his  office,  and  would  gladly 
have  taken  his  place  if  propriety  and  duty  had  per- 
mitted. He  lingered  beside  her  after  this  matter  vras 
arranged  as  long  as  his  conscience  allowed,  and  tlicy 
cxchanjjed  some  of  those  tender  words  which  are  pro- 


288  ROEBUCK. 

fane<l  by  publication.  Besides  the  natural  reluctance 
of  a  lover  to  leave  her,  he  felt  a  presentiment  that  this 
parting  might  be  final,  for  he  knew  that  they  were 
both  going  into  danger.  But  the  thought  of  his  own 
coming  danger  reminded  him  of  the  urgency  of  his 
military  duty.  Without  knowing  the  design  which 
he  Avould  hasten  to  fulfil,  at  the  peril  of  his  life,  she 
knew  and  appreciated  the  demands  of  military  service, 
and  would  not  detain  him.-  With  a  sorrowful  farewell 
they  parted. 

Doctor  Fairfiix  summoned  the  faithful  Caleb,  who, 
with  others  of  his  class,  was  riding  at  leisure  behind 
the  regiment.  He  had  followed  his  master  whenever 
he  was  with  the  army,  and,  in  that  branch  of  the  art 
military  whicli  fell  within  his  sphere,  he  had  acquired 
the  ready  skill  of  an  old  campaig;ier.  After  testifying 
his  delight  at  meeting  with  Miss  Julia,  by  bows  and 
grins  and  words  of  learned  length  and  thundering* 
sound,  he  applied  himself,  under  the  doctor's  direc- 
tion, to  the  care  of  the  horses  and  the  arrangement  of 
the  baggage  of  the  expedition  in  which  his  master  had 
just  enlisted.  With  his  expert  aid  everything  was 
ready  for  the  road  in  a  short  time,  and  Julia,  with  her 
escort,  resumed  her  journey. 

During  the  rest  of  the  day  no  event  occurred  to 
them  of  sufficient  importance  to  justify  recital.  While 
they  rode  along,  Julia  related  to  her  uncle  in  detail  all 
that  had  recently  happened  at  Roebuck  and  in  its 
vicinity.  The  doctor  was  often  moved  to  indigna- 
tion, and  the  misfortunes  of  his  brother  and  his  bro- 
ther's wife  more  than  once  drew  tears  to  his  eyes.  As 
to  her  own  sufferings,  while  she  was  a  captive  in  Mr. 
Palmer's  house,  she  maintained  a  peculiar  reserve  in 
speaking  both  to  her  uncle  and  Hugh  Fitzhugh.   They 


ROEBUCK.  289 

learned  from  her  little  more  than  MarHn  and  Baxter 
had  already  told  them.  Even  to  her  mother  a  senti- 
ment of  maidenly  modesty  prevented  her  from  reveal- 
ing: •'^11  that  occurred  in  her  chamber  at  Mr.  Palmer  s- 
Perhaps,  too,  a  consciousness  that  her  own  indignation 
was  more  intense  than  it  had  ever  been  before,  and  a 
scrupulous  fear  of  carrying  revenge  too  far,  or  of  in- 
volving others  in  attempts  at  extreme  violence,  re- 
strained her  from  exposing  the  whole  enormity  of 
Albert  Palmer's  guilt.  Enough  was  known,  however, 
to  Colonel. Fitzhugh  and  her  uncle  to  brand  Palmer  in 
their  estimation  as  a  monster  of  iniquity,  who  had 
wronged  her  whom  they  regarded  as  the  most  inno- 
cent and  most  lovely  among  women. 

At  evening  the  travelers  arrived  at  the  house  of  a 
farmer  Avhose  name  was  Bell.  He  was  an  acquaint- 
ance of  Doctor  Fairfax,  and  consented  to  entertain 
them  for  the  night.  This  was  a  considerable  proof  of 
hospitality  ;  for,  although  Mr.  Bell  had  a  good  farm,  he 
had  nothing  to  eat  for  men  or  horses,  except  a  little 
corn  and  bacon,  which  he  kept  concealed  lest  it  should 
be  taken  from  him  or  destroyed.  Experience  had 
taught  him  this  fear  and  an  adroit  ingenuity  in  con- 
cealing the  remnants  of  "his  supplies.  Besides,  there 
was  then  in  his  house,  awaiting  interment,  the  dead 
body  of  his  son.  The  young  man  had  been  a  soldier  in 
Fitzhugh's  regiment,  and  died  suddenly  within  a  few 
miles  of  his  father's  house.  As  the  funeral  rites  of 
"rebels"  were  sometimes  interrupted  with  insult  and 
outrage  in  those  parts  of  the  State  which  were  over- 
run by  the  invaders,  it  had  been  deemed  necessary  to 
bring  home  t*he  body  of  the  Confederate  soldier  pri- 
vately during  the  preceding  night,  and  it  was  to  be 
buried  with  equal  secresy  the  very  night  of  Julia's 

13 


290  ROEBUCK. 

amval.  Kotwitlistanding  their  own  destitution  and 
affliction,  however,  Mr.  Bell  and  his  flimily  received 
the  travelers,  and  did  all  that  was  in  their  power  to 
make  them  comfortable. 

At  midnight  two  or  three  neighbors  had  assembled, 
and,  with  them,  Doctor  Fairfax  assisted  at  the  inter- 
ment of  the  son  of  his  host.  Tliey  carried  the  corpse 
to  a  remote  pai't  of  the  farm,  followed  by  the  father 
and  mother,  and  lighted  only  by  the  stars.  Arriving 
at  a  spot  where  a  grave  was  already  dug  among  some 
old  field  pines,  one  of  the  neighbors  lit  the  candle  in  a 
lantern  which  he  had  brought.  Its  scanty  light  tinged 
the  faces  of  the  mom*ners  with  a  melancholy  tint  of 
yellow,  and  faintly  streaming  through  the  pines,  it 
made  the  heavy  masses  of  dark  shadow  more  funereal. 
No  word  was  spoken.  The  rough  coffin  was  let  down 
by  means  of  ropes  into  the  rude  receptacle  of  mortal 
dust.  The  first  clods  falling  with  dull  rattle  on  the 
boards,  heard  in  the  dead  silence  of  midnight,  and  tell- 
ing that  a  beloved  son  was  to  be  covered  away  from 
sight  forever,  so  shocked  the  weeping  mother  that  she 
shrieked.  But  the  cry  af  anguish  was  suppressed,  and 
all  was  still  again.  The  mournful  task  was  finished  in 
silence. 


ROEBUCK.  291 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

DOCTOR   DICK* 

Doctor  Fairfax  procured  from  Mr.  Bell  a  suit  of 
plain  clothes,  and  left  his  Confederate  uniform.  He 
was  about  to  travel  through  a  part  of  the  State  exclu- 
sively occupied  by  Federal  troops.  Not  being  an  en- 
listed soldier,  he  felt  at  liberty  to  assume  or  quit  the 
service  and  its  badges  for  honest  and  needful  pur- 
poses at  his  own  discretion.  Traveling  with  his  niece 
for  an  innocent  and  pacific  object,  he  thought  that  an 
old  man,  in  citizen's  dress,  might  be  suffered  to  pass 
unmolested  where  a  Confederate  soldier  would  cer- 
tainly be  arrested.  He  did  not  explain  to  Julia  that 
this  change  of  dress  might  be  so  interpreted,  possibly, 
as  to  augment  his  danger  in  case  of  capture.  Nor 
could  he  bring  himself  to  rely  so  absolutely  on  the 
immunity  of  age,  innocence  and  a  civil  suit,  that  he 
would  leave  his  revolvers  behind.  He  carried  two  pis- 
tols. Thus  he  set  out  on  the  next  day's  journey  in 
ambiguous  trim,  hoping  for  peace,  but  prepared  for 
war. 

They  rode  two  or  three  hours  of  the  morning  with- 
out inteiTuption,  and  having  no  occasion  for  action, 
Doctor  Dick,  of  course,  filled  up  the  time  with  talk. 
Julia  thought  and  felt  too  much  for  easy  conversation. 
Her  uncle  was  free  to  indulge  himself  in  soliloquy 
or  in  lecture.  They  came  upon  a  part  of  the  road 
which  passed  for  a  distance  of  a  mile  or  two  through 
a  forest.  They  were  riding  at  a  walk,  and  Doctoi* 
Fairfax  had  fallen  into  a  disquisition. 


292  ROEBUCK. 

"Two  rival  systems  of  civilization" — so  his  dis- 
course was  running  on — '■  have  been  developed  on 
this  continent  The  Northern  has  reached  its  most 
advanced  stage  in  Massachusetts,  the  Southern  in  Vir- 
ginia. One  is  founded  on  trade,  the  other  on  agri- 
culture. One  flourishes  in  cities,  as  in  hot-houses,  the 
other  ripens  in  the  sunshine  of  the  country.  Tiie 
Korthern  is  of  more  rapid  gi'Ov,^th,  the  Southern  more 
perfect.  By  some  fatality  this  trial  of  force  between 
them  has  been  brought  on  soon  enough  to  give  the 
North  all  the  advantage  of  its  precocious  strength, 
Avhile  half  the  South  is  not  yet  rid  of  the  stumps.  I 
fear,  as  you  know,  that  in  this  struggle  the  North 
will  prevail.  Then  the  world  and  posterity  will  be 
taught  that  the  Northern  system  is  the  best,  every 
way.  The  Avorld  is  sycophantic,  and  listens  to  a  con- 
queror. You  know  my  opinions  of  this  Yankee  civil- 
ization. It  makes  white  slaves,  while  we  use  the 
black  slaves  made  by  nature.  The  leading  tendency 
of  our  system  is  to  cultivate  virtue ;  df  the  Yankee 
system,  to  sharpen  the  wits.  Our  refinements  are  re- 
finements of  virtue.  Our  fantastic  excess  is  an  exag- 
geration of  honor  and  courage.  The  selfish  princi- 
ciples  that  we  develop  as  a  prop  to  virtue,  is  pride — 
theirs,  prudence.  We  incur  among  the  Yankees  the 
disdain  which  rustics  incur  among  city  fops.  The 
prime  products  of  our  social  system  are  noble  men 
and  women.  The  Northern — see — there  are  speci- 
mens now,  I  verily  believe." 

The  travelers  were  emerging  fi-om  tlie  wood,  and 
were  in  a  view  of  a  farm-house  that  stood  at  no  great 
distance  from  them.  From  the  house  a  lane  led  to  the 
road  on  which  they  were  traveling.  In  the  lane,  four 
mounted  men,   in   Federal    uniform,   leading   three 


ROEBUCK.  293 

horses,  had  just  turned  away  from  the  house,  and  were 
approaching  the  road.  The  doctor  suspected  that  the 
led  horses  had  just  been  taken  from  citizens,  and  per- 
haps from  the  farmer  who  lived  there.  The  prospect 
of  meeting  the  soldiers  was  not  pleasant,  but  there 
was  no  way  to  avoid  them,  as  the  doctor  concluded, 
ard  he  resolved  to  advance  without  any  appearance 
of  distrust.  He  slipped,  however,  one  of  his  pistols 
into  the  hands  of  Caleb,  with  an  injunction  not  to 
show  it,  Ror  to  use  it,  until  ordered  to  do  so  by 
his  master.  Julia  begged  her  uncle  to  make  no 
resistance,  whatever  might  happen.  He  assured 
her  that  it  was  his  purpose  to  avoid  a  collision  if 
possible. 

"When  the  Virginians  were  nearly  opposite  to  the 
mouth  of  the  lane,  the  Federal  soldiers  came  out  of  it 
and  met  them  on  the  road.  The  doctor  saluted  the 
strangers  courteously,  and  would  have  passed  on. 
But  a  non-commissioned  officer,  who  appeared  to  be 
the  leader  of  the  party,  ordered  him  to  halt.  The  or- 
der was  obeyed,  of  course,  aad  he  who  had  given  it, 
after  looking  at  the  horses,  and  fixing  his  attention 
particularly  on  Arab,  said  : 

"  Them's  good  horses  you're  riding." 

"  They  are  tolerable  nags,"  the  doctor  admitted. 

"  We're  looking  for  sich  horses,  we  are." 

"  We  do  not  wish  to  sell  ours."  : 

"  Good ;  we  don't  want  to  buy." 

"  I  believe  we  are  not  likely  to  agree  upon  an  ex- 
change, either." 

"  You're  a  comical  old  cock.  Do  you  take  us  for 
horse-traders?  Don't  you  see  we're  soldiers'?  We 
take  horses,  we  do.  I've  a  particular  fancy  for  the 
woman's  horse,  bat  as  she's  a  woman,  we'll  leave  her 


294  ROEBUCK. 

the  old  sorrel  vre  got  at  tliJit  house.  He'll  do  for  her. 
Come,  Cuffee,  take  her  saddle  and  put  it  on  the  sorrel. 
We'll  just  take  your  horse,  and  the  old  man's  saddles 
and  all." 

While  he  was  speaking,  he  dismounted,  and  ap- 
proached Julia.     She  said  to  him  in  her  softest  tones  : 

"  I  am  sure,  sir,  if  you  knew  how  I  prize  this  horse 
and  for  what  a  holy  pui-pose  I  need  him  now,  you 
would  not  take  him  from  me." 

''  Wouldn't  I,  though  ?  Come,  get  down  without 
any  more  palaver." 

He  seized  her  by  the  arm  and  pulled  her  so  roughly 
downward  that  she  was  glad  to  leap  to  the  ground. 
He  then  lifted  her  veil  and  said  : 

"  By that's  a  pretty  secesh  face.     I  must  have 

a  kiss." 

He  seemed  about  to  suit  the  action  to  the  word, 
when  the  crack  of  a  pistol  was  heard  and  he  fell  dead- 
Doctor  Fairfax  had  prevented  the  insult. 

Instantly  a  fight  ensued,  which  was  so  sudden, 
i-apid  and  brief,  that  Julia  could  distinguish  nothing 
but  the  firing  of  revolvers  until  it  was  over.  She  was 
near  being  trampled  upon  by  the  horses  in  the  affray, 
but  she  was  below  the  range  of  the  shots.  In  a  min- 
ute the  firing  ceased.  Two  of  the  Federals  lay  dead 
on  the  ground  ;  the  other  two  were  fiying  and  appar- 
ently wounded.  Caleb  was  down,  bleeding  freely. 
Three  barrels  of  his  pistol  were  empty.  Doctor  Fair- 
fax sat  on  his  horse,  looking  at  the  two  retreating  sol- 
diers.    Presently  he  said : 

"Julia,  they  have  quieted  old  Dick,"  and  he  began 
to  sink  upon  the  horse's  neck.  She  ran  to  him,  and 
suj^ported  him  while  he  slipped  to  the  ground. 

'•  Where  are  you  hurt,  Uncle  Dick  ?"  she  asked,  in 
great  alarm. 


ROEBUCK.  295 

•*  Here,  Julia ;  hurt  to  death." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  will  not  die,"  she  cried,  "  you  will 
not  die." 

"  Yes,  I  know — I  can  live  but  a  few  minutes. 
When  the  breath  is  out,  you  must  leave  me  and  save 
yourself.  The  villains  will  send  others  after  us.  I'll 
not  keep  you  long.  I  finished  two  of  them.  I  be- 
lieve another,  tlianks  to  Caleb,  is  not  long  for  this 
world.  Three  Yankees  the  less  to  destroy  our  peo- 
ple." 

"Your  voice  is  strong,  Uncle  Dick.  Let  me  ex- 
amine your  wound.  I  am  sure  it  cannot  be  fatal.  I 
will  go  for  help." 

"  You  would  like  to  do  something  for  Uncle  Dick. 
But  it  is  useless.  Raise  my  head  a  little — so — now 
you  have  my  head  in  your  lap  I  can  breathe  a  few 
minutes  longer,  and  I  shall  die  easy.  Ah,  Julia,  what 
a  tragedy  of  tragedies  we  have  witnessed, with  Yankee 
power  for  the  devil  of  the  scene  and  Yankee  policy  for 
the  plot.  If  I  could  live  a  little  while  longer  I  would 
repent  of  all  the  sins  of  the  Yankees  as  they  have  re- 
pented so  angrily  of  our  sin  of  slavery  these  many 
years.  Poor  old  Virginia,  she  was  drawn  into  this 
war  by  the  action  of  the  States  North  and  South  of 
her,  and  now  she  has  to  fight  more  and  sufier  more 
than  any  of  them.  AYell,  I  have  done  my  duty,  thank 
God.  Only  a  few  minutes  more,  my  dear  girl.  I  wish 
he  had  been  a  gentleman  who  shot  me — I  fear  he  was 
a  cur.  Well,  I  forgive  him  ;  he  was  a  soldier.  I  am 
very  weak.  Here  is  your  purse  in  my  pocket.  I  was 
going  to  leave  without  giving  it  to  you.  I  shall  not 
need  it  where  I  am  going.  Ask  the  people  of  that 
house  to  take  care  ot  my  body  and  of  Caleb — poor 
Caleb,  I  fear  he  is  badly  wounded  " 


296  ROEBUCK. 

"  I's  gwine  wid  von,  master,"  said  Caleb,  speaking 
with  difficulty,  and  falling  at  last  from  his  ambitious 
phraseology  to  the  negro  dialect,  "  I's  gwine  wid  you, 
master." 

"  I  hope  not,  my  faithful  fellow." 

"  I  bin  always  wid  you ;  I's  gwine  wid  you  now 
master." 

"Farewell,  Caleb.  God  bless  you.  You  have  done 
your  duty.  Then  fiy,  Julia.  Conceal  yourself  until 
night  in  that  wood.  Save  your  father.  Tell  him  I 
die  for  him  and  for  you  and  for  Virginia — as  I  would 
wish  to  die — for  the  dearest  objects  of  my  love — and  I 

love  sister  Mary  and We  die,  Julia — you  are  a 

brave  gui — the  earth  has  not  another  so  noble — kiss 
me,  Julia — ^^farewell — we  die,  but  our  country  lives  for- 
ever— God  bless  Virginia — light  the  candle — God 
bless  " 


He  spoke  no  more. 

Mr.    Hart,   the    farmer    Avho   resided   there,  now 
stood  beside  Julia. 


ROEBUCK.  297 

ciiaptp:r  xxviii. 

HUGH   FITZHUGH. 

When  Albert  Palmer,  abruptly  abandoning  his  pur- 
suit of  Miss  Fairfax,  turned  to  fly  from  the  five  or  six 
Confederates  who  had  met  her,  he  was  mounted  on  a 
fleeter  horse  than  any  of  theirs,  and  not  sparing  the 
weary  animal,  he  left  them  at  some  distance.  He 
would  probably  have,  escaped  if  his  horse  had  not 
fallen  in  descending  a  hill.  By  the  fall  oee  of  the 
rider's  legs  was  broken,  and  being  unable  to  move,  he 
was  captured.  He  was  carried  by  his  captors  into  the 
yard  of  a  house  which  stood  near  the  road,  and  there 
laid  on  the  grass,  while  the  Confederates,  giving  up 
the  pursuit  of  his  comrades,  who  had  scattered  them- 
selves over  the  country,  waited  for  the  regiment  to 
come  up. 

Colonel  Fitzhugh,  after  leaving  Julia  with  her  imcle 
at  the  spring,  ha^<:ened  forward.  She  had  told  him 
that  some  of  his  men  were  in  jDursuit  of  Palmer,  and 
he  had  heard  enough  of  that  gentleman's  recent  con- 
duct to  fill  him  with  anger.  Anticipating  the  capture 
of  the  fugitives  as  possible,  if  not  probable,  he  medi- 
tated the  punishment  that  was  due  to  such  a  villain. 
His  fury  being  the  counsellor  of  his  judgment,  he  was 
ready  to  condemn  the  culprit  to  extreme  torture  of 
any  kind  that  imagination  could  conceive.  In  his 
anger  he  dashed  the  spurs  into  his  horse,  as  if  no 
speed  was  swift  enough  for  his  revenge.  Whether 
his  tempestuous  thought  turned  to  the  perils  through 

13* 


298  ROEBUCK.. 

Avhich  Julia  had  passed,  or  to  those  which  he  was 
about  to  eucounter,  or  to  the  sufferings  of  her  father, 
or  to  the  atrocities  recently  perpetrated  against  others, 
or  to  the  past  career  of  Palmer,  he  became  luore  and 
more  enraged.  In  this  vindictive  mood  he  dashed  on 
to  the  head  of  his  regiment. 

He  was  amazed  at  the  scene  which  he  then  witnessed, 
and  it  recalled  his  mind  to  the  duties  of  an  officer. 
That  portion  of  the  command  which  had  arrived  at 
tlie  place  where  Albert  Palmer  lay,  was  in  the  utmost 
confusion  and  disorderly  excitement.  The  report  which 
Marlin  and  Baxter  had  brought  of  his  conduct  had 
been  circulated  among  the  men,  and,  as  usual  in  such 
cases,  it  had  gathered  additions  as  it  was  repeated.  It 
inflamed  the  minds  of  the  soldiers  to  the  highest  pitch 
of  resentment  against  one  Avliom  they  regarded  as  a 
fiend.  The  foremost  of  them,  seeing  him  in  the  yard, 
gave  way  to  the  impulses  of  passion.  Leaving  the 
ranks  and  dismounting,  they  hurried  into  the  yard 
with  threatening  cries  and  gestures.  Others  followed. 
Forty  or  fifty  men  entered  the  enclosure.  Shoot  him 
— he's  a  deserter — he's  a  trator — he's  a  murderer — he 
tried  to  kill  Miss  Fairfiix — he  hung  her  to  a  bed-post 
— Mark  Marlin  had  to  cut  her  down — hang  him — 
such  were  the  cries  that  expressed  their  purpose  or 
their  passion.  Some  of  them  who  were  near  the 
prisoner  tried  to  seize  him,  but  were  delayed  by  two 
or  three  officers.  A  few  of  the  men  cried,  don't  mur- 
der him — wait  till  the  colonel  comes — let  the  colonel 
deal  with  him.  But  the  increase  of  the  crowd  brought 
an  increase  of  excitement.  The  uproar  of  threats 
silenced  the  the  feeble  voice  of  remonstrance.  Eveiy 
moment  it  appeared  certain  that  the  maddened  mob 
would  obtain  possession  of  Palmer  and  execute  instant 
revenge. 


ROEBUCK.  299 

^yllen  Colonel  Fitzliugh  came  upon  this  spectacle 
of  tumult  he  asked  what  was  the  matter.  A  soldier 
replied,  "they've  got  Palmer  in  there." 

"  What  is  he  doing?" 

*'  Lying  on  the  grass.     They  say  he's  wounded." 

"What  are  the  men  doing?" 

"They  are  going  so  hang  him." 

"  Murder  a  prisoner !" 

The  violence  of  others  struck  him  in  its  true  light, 
and  restored  his  reason  to  the  mastery  over  his  pas- 
sions. He  leaped  from  his  horse  and  into  the  yard. 
Pressing  forward  among  the  men,  he  called  to  them, 
in  a  voice  of  authority  that  rang  above  the  uproar,  not 
to  murder  a  prisoner,  but  to  return  to  the  ranks. 
Those  who  recognized  him  gave  way  for  him  to  pass. 
Others,  too  intent  on  mischief  to  see  their  colonel  or 
hear  his  voice,  were  thrust  aside.  In  a  moment  he 
was  beside  Palmer,  and  looking  round  upon  the 
enraged  soldiers,  sternly  commanded  them  to  fall 
back.  They  yielded  with  a  sullen  murmur  to  his 
ascendancy,  and  slowly  retired.  He  rebuked  them  for 
the  crime  which  they  had  meditated,  and  ordered 
them  to  return  to  their  places.  Palmer  implored  him 
not  to  let  the  men  assassinate  him,  but  he  made  no 
reply  to  this  supplication  until  the  yard  was  cleared  of 
soldiers.  Then,  casting  his  eyes'upon  the  prisoner,  he 
merely  said,  "you  are  safe  now."  He  had  Palmer 
carried  into  the  house,  and  placed  a  guard  around 
it,  under  an  officer  on  whose  firmness  he  could  rely, 
commanding  him  to  remain  until  the  regiment  had 
l)assed  and  to  follow  it,  taking  care  that  no  men  were 
left  behind.  He  then  informed  Palmer  that  he  was 
to  be  left  there  at  liberty,  and  required  him  to  give 
the  ordinary  parole  of  a  prisoner  of  war.     When  this 


300  no  Lii  L  C  Iv  . 

matter  had  been  arranged,  the  prisoner  began  to  cx- 
})ress  gi-atitude,  but  the  colonel  abruptly  left  hira  and 
hastened  to  the  regiment,  which  v/as  again  in  motion. 
Some  of  the  men,  as  he  passed  by  them,  muttered, 
"  this  -vvas  not  the  "way  the  Yanks  treated  Colonel 
Fred."  He  chose  to  be  deaf  to  such  comments.  His 
own  passions,  which  had  been  so  suddenly  quelled, 
began  to  rebel  again,  and  he  had  to  ride  some  distance 
before  he  felt  j)ei-fectly  master  of  himself  He  then 
took  occasion  to  speak  to  his  men  in  words  of  grave 
reproof,  and  of  the  dishonor  which  some  of  them  had 
almost  brought  upon  the  regiment.  He  assured  them 
that  in  a  little  while  he  would  conduct  them  to  a  far 
more  honorable  revenge,  and  that  the  crimes  of  their 
enemies  should  not  go  unpunished.  He  informed 
them  that  they  had  a  long  march  before  them  for  that 
day  and  coming  night,  and  he  relied  on  their  pa'ience, 
discipline  and  courage  for  the  success  of  an  important 
enterprise. 

When  Colocel  Fitzhugh  was  returning,  successful, 
from  his  expedition,  and  had  heard  of  the  outrages 
which  had  been  committed  in  the  county  of  his  resi- 
dence, he  resolved  to  strike  a  blow,  if  possible,  which 
might  restrain  such  inhuman  excesses  of  military  vio- 
lence for  the  future.  The  information  obtained  by 
Baxter  encom-aged  him  to  believe  that  it  was  practica- 
ble, and  his  interview  with  Julia  did  not  tend  to  relax 
his  resolution.  He  was  hastening  on  with  a  hope  of 
surprising  the  Federals  at  the  village.  After  leaving 
Fahner  he  continued  the  march  until  a  late  hour  of  the 
night  when  he  was  within  three  or  four  miles  of  the 
village.  The  regiment  was  then  halted  for  a  brief  rest, 
but,  an  hour  before  daybreak,  the  men  Avere  again  in 
their  saddles.     The  colonel  theu  addressed  them : 


ROEBUCK.  301 

"  Soldiers !  Virginians !  You  are  about  to  attack 
the  enemy— not  soldiers  but  malefactors.  They  have 
perpetrated  their  crimes  at  your  own  homes.  They 
have  desecrated  your  own  altars.  They  have  burned 
your  own  dwellings.  They  have  robbed  and  insulted 
your  own  families.  They  have  made  war  on  women 
and  children.  They  have  defiled  virgins.  As  you  are 
men,  redress  the  injuries  of  women — of  your  families 
and  friends.  Scourge  these  felons.  Here  revenge  is 
justice.  In  such  a  cause  your  sabres  are  sacred. 
Count  no  odds  against  you  when  Heavan  must  bless 
your  valor.  The  enemy  is  a  thousand ;  you  are  five 
hundred ;  you  are  enough.  Let  the  word  be  Eliza 
Marlin.     Follow  me." 

There  was  no  shout  in  response  to  this  address. 
The  clenched  teeth  would  not  open  for  cheers.  There 
was  an  inarticulate  murmur.  There  was  a  low,  contin- 
uous clash  of  iron,  as  every  man  felt  his  sabre  or  his 
carbine.     Then,   in  stern   silence,   the  little   column 

moved  off. 

The  force  at  the  village  numbered  somewhat  above 
a  thousand  men— a  regiment  of  infantry  about  seven 
hundred  strong,  and  about  three  or  four  hundred  cav- 
alry. License  had  destroyed  the  discipline  and  im- 
paired the  vigilance  of  the  entire  force. 
•  Availing  himself  of  his  local  knowledge  and  of  the 
information  which  Re  had  recently  received.  Colonel 
Fitzhugh  led  his  regiment,  undiscovered,  to  a  point 
near  the  village,  and  then  dashed  into  the  centre  of 
the  Federal  encampment  before  any  signal  of  his 
approach  was  given.  Officers  and  soldiers,  suddenly 
aroused  from  sleep,  ran  from  their  tents  to  be  cut 
down  or  trampled  under  foot,  or  to  flee  from  the  mer- 
ciless sabres.     On  one  side  confusion  and  dismay—on 


30-2  ROEBUCK. 

the  other  shouts,  strokes,  wrath,  triumph.  Pistols  were 
fired  on  every  hand — a  few  muskets  or  rides  replied. 
Darkness  added  to  the  liorror  of  the  scene.  But 
friends  and  foes  knew  tliat  the  careering  horsemen 
were  Confederates  and  the  fugitives  on  foot  were 
Federals.  Here  and  there  a  few  Federals  attempted 
to  stand,  but  they  could  stand  only  to  be  slaughtered. 
An  enemy  who  had  seen  Mark  Marlin  there  that 
morning  would  have  denounced  the  heart-broken  boy 
as  an  unsparing  savage.  He  and  his  had  not  been 
spared.  All  through  that  camp  the  name  of  his  sister 
was  muttered  by  men  who  were  saved  from  horrid 
deeds,  perhaps,  by  the  rapid  dispersion  of  the  enemy. 
They  were  men. 

The  Federal  cavalry,  finding  that  the  infantry  had 
been  scattered,  took  to  flight  without  an  effort  at  de- 
fence. Some  mounted  horses  without  saddles  or  bri- 
dles and  galloped  away.  Others  on  foot  scampered 
across  the  adjacent  fields.  In  a  few  minutes  it  appeared 
to  the  assailants  that,  of  tlie  who^.e  Federal  force,  none 
remained  near  the  village  but  the  few  who  were  killed 
or  severely  wounded.  But  it  was  not  so.  Colonel 
AYesel,  whatever  else  he  may  have  been,  was  a  man  of 
courage.  Though  suddenly  awakened  by  an  enemy 
in  the  midst  of  his  camp,  he  did  not  lose  his  presence 
of  mind.  He  soon  discovered  the  real  state  of  affairs, 
and  thought  only  of  retrieving  the  disaster.  Using 
the  opportunities  of  darkness  and  confusion,  he  col- 
lected a  few  men,  and  with  them  he  threw  himself  into 
a  house  at  one  end  of  the  village.  There  he  deter- 
mined to  make  a  stand  while  he  sent  some  of  his  ofii- 
cers  to  rally  his  flying  troops,  and  a  courier  to  the 
nearest  Federal  post  for  succor.  He  did  not  believe 
that  the  assailants  were  numerous  or  that  they  would 


ROEBUCK.  803 

venture  to  remain  long  at  the  village.  He  hoped  that 
a  sturdy  show  of  resistance  might  even  cause  them  to 
retire  as  suddenly  as  they  came. 

As  soon  as  Colonel  Fitzhugh  discovered  that  the 
house  was  thus  occupied,  he  divined  the  objects  of  the 
Federal  officer,  and  saw  the  necessity  of  dislodging 
him  at  once,  and  of  preventing  the  fugitives  from  being 
rallied.  He  knew  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
hold  the  village  very  long  under  any  circumstances, 
and  that  if  any  part  of  it  could  be  held  by  the  enemy 
until  reinforcements  or  considerations  of  prudence 
should  compel  him  to  retire,  the  effect  of  his  present 
success  would  be  neutralized.  He  sent  a  considerable 
part  of  the  regiment  to  pursue  the  fugitives  for  a  time, 
and  then  prepared  to  assault  the  house  occupied  by 
Colonel  Wesel.  When  the  party  organized  for  the 
purpose  was  ready  to  make  the  assault  the  day  was 
breaking. 

The  assailants  rushed  towards  the  house,  intending 
to  enter  through  the  windows.  When  they  Avere 
within  a  few  yards  of  it  a  well-directed  volley  brought 
several  of  them  to  the  earth.  Mark  Marlin,  springing 
forward,  seized  the  ledge  of  a  window  which  was 
rather  above  his  head,  and  drawing  himself  up,  broke 
in  the  sash  with  the  hilt  of  his  sword.  He  climbed 
up  to  the  window,  and  had  almost  entered,  when  he 
received  a  shot,  and  tell  heavily  back  to  the  ground. 
The  men  behind  him,  and  those  directed  to  other  win- 
dows, still  pressed  on.  But  the  defence  was  so  steady 
and  effective  that  it  was  soon  found  necessary  to  recall 
them,  and  the  assault  failed. 

Colonel  Fitzhugh,  still  deeming  it  necessary  to  dis- 
lodge the  Federal  colonel  as  soon  as  possible,  made 
instant  preparation  for  another  attack.      He  placed 


304  ROEBUCK. 

himself  at  the  head  of  a  nnmher  of  men  deemed  sufii- 
cient  for  the  purpose.  Having  procm-ed  a  ladder,  he 
led  them,  under  cover  of  buildings,  to  a  spot  about 
fifty  yards  from  the  house  occupied  by  the  enemy. 
Then,  while  a  false  attack  was  made  pn  another  side, 
he  rushed  forward.  His  foremost  men,  carrying  the 
ladder  horizontally  between  them,  swung  it,  as  a  ram, 
igainst  the  door  until  they  broke  it,  but  not  without 
two  or  three  of  them  being  wounded.  As  soon  as  an 
opening  was  thus  made,  wide  enough  for  a  man  to 
pass.  Colonel  Fitzhugh  dashed  in,  followed  by  his 
men.  Within  the  house  there  was  a  fierce  fight,  liand- 
^o-hau4-  It  could  not  last  long.  Colonel  Wesel  and 
several  of  his  men  were  killed.     The  rest  surrendered. 

The  victory  Avas  complete,  but  it  was  purchased 
with  some  precious  blood.  Besides  other  losses.  Col- 
onel Fitzhugh  was  dangerously  wounded.  He  was 
carried  from  the  house,  bleeding  profusely.  Calling 
the  lieutenant-colonel  of  his  regiment  to  him,  he  ex- 
pressed the  belief  that  his  wound  was  mortal,  he  com- 
mended the  gallantry  of  his  men,  and  gave  directions 
for  the  burial  of  the  dead,  the  care  of  the  wounded, 
the  removal  of  captm-ed  horses  and  guns,  and  the 
withdrawal  of  his  command  from  the  village.  Finally, 
he  requested  that,  whatever  might  be  his  own  con- 
dition, he  might  not  be  left  behind.  Although  these 
directions  were  given  with  coolness  and  clearness, 
they  were  scarcely  completed  when  he  became  insen- 
sible. Afterwards  he  revived ;  he  was  almost  lifeless 
when,  in  the  afternoon,  he  was  carried  from  the 
village. 

The  dead  body  of  Mark  Marlin  was  lifted  from  the 
earth  and  borne  with  tender  respect  by  his  comrades 
to  the  cabin  of  his  father,  who  sat  on  his  desolate 
hearth  beside  his  wife ;  and  she  was  a  maniac. 


ROEBUCK.  S05 

"When  Mrs.  Fitzhugli  beard  of  the  condition  of  her 
son  she  followed  the  regiment,  and  taking  charge  of 
him,  she  had  hhn  carried,  from  time  to  time,  by  short 
stages  to  an  interior  county.  There  she  took  a  cottage, 
and  attended  only  by  her  faithful  Belle,  devoted  her- 
self to  the  preservation  of  his  life. 


306  TIOEBUCK. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

\YASniXGTON. 

"We  left  Julia  Fairfax  seated  in  a  highway,  holding  in  I 
her  lap  the  head  of  her  deceased  uncle.  Kear  her  lay 
his  bleeding  servant,  and  the  corpses  of  two  Federal 
soldiers.  Beside  her  stood  Mr.  Hart.  Xotwithstand- 
ing  the  dangers  which  he  and  his  family  might  incur 
if  he  should  afford  assistance  to  those  who  had  pro- 
voked the  vengeance  of  soldiery  in  possession  of  the 
country,  he  was  prompt  to  acknowledge  tke  duties  of 
humanity  to  a  woman  in  affliction,  and  to  the  dead 
and  wounded.  He  addressed  her  in  words  of  sym- 
pathy, and  offered  her  the  shelter  of  his  house,  and 
whatever  aid  he  could  render.  Pier  delicate  frame 
might  have  sunk  under  the  load  of  calamity  that  had 
befallen  her ;  but,  if  she  was  a  woman  in  the  weakness 
of  passion,  she  could  be  a  woman  in  the  heroism  of 
duty.  A  sacred  duty  vras  still  before  her.  A  gush 
of  tears  discharged  the  natural  tribute  of  affection  and 
grief.  Then  she  rapidly  reviewed  the  circumstances 
by  which  she  was  surrounded,  and  concluded  that  it 
was  necessary  for  her  to  act  promptly  according  to  the 
advice  of  her  dying  uncle.  She  thanked  Mr.  Hart  for 
his  kind  offer  of  assistance.  She  explained  to  him  - 
briefly  that  she  was  obliged  to  prosecute  her  journey 
without  delay.  She  begged  him  to  take  charge  of  her 
uncle's  body,  and  of  the  wounded  Caleb.  Tliat  faith- 
ful servant  assured  them  that  he  would  not  trouble  any 
one  Ion  or  in  this  world.     When  Mr.  Hart  had  con- 


ROEBUCK.  307 

sented  to  fulfil  all  the  wishes  wliicli  she  expressed, 
and  she  had  seen  Caleb  laid  on  a  bed  in  the  house, 
she  took  leave  of  him  witli  many  tears,  and,  after  kiss- 
ing the  lifeless  lips  of  her  dear  uncle,  she  bade  fare- 
well to  Mr.  Hart. 

She  went  into  the  wood  to  wait  for  the  more  se- 
cure shelter  of  night.  Concealing  herself  in  a  ravine, 
she  tied  her  horse  by  the  bridle  to  a  limb,  and  sat 
down  upon  the  grass,  leaning  against  the  trunk  of  a 
tree.  There  she  remained  alone  several  hours.  The 
sun  went  down,  and  the  retreating  shadows  at  length 
stole  away  upon  the  approach  of  night,  like  faithless 
friends  at  the  coming  of  misfortune.  Darkness  made 
her  solitude  more  dismal.  Hooting  owls,  and  wailing 
whip-poor-wills,  broke,  with  melancholy  voices,  the 
solemn  silence  of  the  forest  and  of  night.  Her  clear 
sense  and  natural  courage  usually  saved  Julia  from 
imaginary  terrors.  But  her  heart,  already  sorrowful 
and  fearful,  felt  the  depressing  influence  of  the  scene. 
She  turned  her  sleepless  and  tearful  eyes  to  Heaven, 
and  prayed  to  the  friend  of  the  friendless,  who  sees  at 
midnight  as  at  noonday.  It  was  midnight  when  she 
found  courage  to  venture  upon  the  highway.  The 
night  was  friendly  to  her,  and,  by  riding  rapidly,  she 
left  this  dangerous  neighborhood  far  behind  her  be- 
fore the  dawn. 

Afterwards,  traveling  much  at  night,  she  continued 
her  journey  through  many  difficulties  and  alarms,  but 
without  any  adventure  that  ought  to  detain  the  reader 
from  more  important  events,  until  she  arrived  within 
ten  miles  of  Washington  City.  Then,  as  she  was 
riding  along  a  public  road  in  the  forenoon,  she  saw 
before  her  a  party  of  Federal  cavalry  approaching  at 
a  brisk  trot.     To  avoid  meeting  them,  she  turned  her 


308  ROEBUCK. 

liorse  and  rode  back,  intending  to  enter  a  lane  which 
she  had  passed,  and  to  wait  there  until  the  cavahy 
sliould  go  by.  When  she  was  about  to  enter  the  lane, 
she  heard  from  behind  her  the  word  ''halt."  In- 
tending to  halt  as  soon  as  slie  turned  out  of  the  road, 
to  avoid  collision,  she  went  on.  She  had  scarcely 
turned  into  the  lane,  and  drawn  hei:  rein,  when  a  shot 
was  fired^  and  the  bullet  struck  her  horse.  He  made 
one  bound  and  then  fell.  Quivering  with  momentary 
agony,  he  died.  The  cavalry  rode  on.  One  voics 
exclaimed — "1  guess  you'll  halt  next  time,"  adding 
some  words  of  profane  ribaldry.  Julia  stood  by  her 
horse,  not  injured  by  his  fall,  but  overcome  with  a 
sense  of  utter  desolation.  "Poor  Arab,"  she  mur- 
mured, "brave,  gentle,  faithful  Arab,  will  they  let 
nothing  live  that  I  love  V 

She  sat  down  for  a  few  minutes,  weeping.  But  a 
thought  of  her  father  recalled  her  to  the  hard  path  of 
duty  still  before  her.  She  rose,  and  with  a  lingering 
look  of  regret  at  the  body  of  her  last  companion,  set 
out  alone  and  afoot  towards  the  city.  She  was  not 
much  accustomed  to  walking,  and  she  had  not  trav- 
eled five  miles  over  the  hard  road  when  she  became 
very  weary,  and  her  feet  began  to  feel  sore.  Still  she 
walked  on,  slowly,  indeed,  and  with  frequent  pauses, 
but  with  perseverance.  The  sun  was  setting  when 
she  found  herself  within  the  suburbs  of  Washington. 
She  stopped  to  rest,  and  to  consider  what  was  next  to 
be  done.  She  did  not  know  that  she  had  a  single 
friend  or  acquaintance  in  the  city,  except  her  fotlier. 
Kegarding  her  soiled  garments  and  wretched  plight, 
she  feared  that  her  appearance  would  excite  the  sus- 
picion of  strangers.  She  imagined  that  not  only 
the  public  offices  but  the  streets  were  thronged  with 


ROEBUCK.  300 

avowed  enemies  of  Virginia  who,  shh  inferred^ 
would  be  lier  enemies  if  she  should  make  herself 
known.  She  thought  that  in  her  dusty  garb,  if  she 
entered  a  resi)ectable  hotel,  she  would  be  rejected  as 
a  guest,  and  perhaps  expelled  with  insult.  Her  pre- 
sent perplexities,  more  than  all  the  perils  of  her  jour- 
ney, made  her  plan  for  obtaining  the  release  of  her 
father  appear  to  lierself  iraprajcticable.  Still  uncer- 
tain what  to  do,  she  started  in  the  dusk  of  evening, 
and  walked  into  the  city.  She  went  along  Pennsyl- 
vania Avenue,  that  wide  and  cheerloss  thoroughfare. 
Hundreds  of  persons  met  her  or  passed  by  her.  She 
did  not  dare  to  put  aside  her  veil,  or  to  lift  her  eyes 
to  their  faces.  She  felt  that  they  were  all  strangers. 
She  imagined  that  they  looked  at  her  with  suspicion 
or  enmity.  More  and  more  disheart(^ed,  more  and 
more  uncertain  what  to  do,  she  still  walked  on.  At 
length,  in  pas-sing  a  corner,  she  looked  into  a  cross 
street,  thinking  that  perhaps  it  might  be  better  for 
her  to  turn  into  it,  and  so  avoid  the  multitude  who 
thronged  the  side-walk  of  the  great  Avenue.  By  the 
light  of  a  lamp  she  saw  a  negro  man  sitting  on  the 
curb-stone  not  far  from  her.  Stepping  aside  into  the 
cross  street,  where  she  could  see  him  more  distinctly, 
she  looked  at  him  a  moment,  and  then  said,  in  a  low 
voice — "  Dave."  He  started  and  looked  at  her.  She 
raised  her  veil,  and  by  the  lamplight  he  saw  her  fea- 
tures. "  Miss  Julia,"  he  cried,  "  'fore  God,  it's  Miss 
Julia."  He  seized  her  hand,  which  she  held  out  to 
him.  He  kissed  it.  He  shed  tears  upon  it  Then, 
with  true  African  volubility  and  incoherence,  he 
poured  forth  a  torrent  of  mixed  and  incongruous 
emotions.  Julia  tried  to  check  demonstrations  which 
began  to  attract  the  attention  of  passengers.     She 


310  ROEBUCK. 

asked  Dainty  Dave  how  he  was  living  in  "Washing- 
ton. This  was  asking  a  renewal  of  his  soitows,  and 
the  floodgates  of  complaint  broke  loose.  It  appeared 
that  from  the  time  he  left  Roebuck — and  he  was 
among  the  first  to  desert — until  that  moment,  his  ex- 
perience had  been  bitter.  "  O  de  fools,  de  fools  us 
niggers  is" — was  his  own  comment  at  several  stages 
of  his  story.  "I's  mis'able,  Miss  Julia,  Ts  starvin',  I 
ain't  got  no  place  to  sleep  dis  night,  but  dis  'ere  pave- 
ment." 

"  Why  did  you  leave  us,  Dave  ?"  she  asked  in  a 
compassionate  voice. 

"  'Case  I  was  a  fool,  like  de  other  niggers.  Master 
spiled  me,  I  reckon.  He  was  too  good  to  dis  'ere  nig- 
ger. I  thought  I  was  a  gwine  to  be  free  when  I 
done  run  away.  I  hadn't  got  no  sense  to  see  I  was 
free  afore,  and  master  was  workin'  for  me  as  ef  he 
was  my-sarvant.  My  blessed  old  master!  All  de 
niggers  here  is  mighty  bad  off.  Miss  Julia,  and  dere's 
heaps  of  'em.  Dey  is  piled  in  cellars  and  places,  and 
kep  in  dem  barracks  till  dey  sta^wes,  and  gits  sick  and 
dies,  and  sich  du-ty  niggers.  I  can't  stay  wid  'em.  I 
ain't  used  to  it.  But  dere  dey  is,  men  and  women 
and  children,  all  wretched,  mis'able  bein's,  and  nobody 
keers  ef  dey  lives  or  dies.'* 

"  Poor  creatures !  What  can  I  do  to  relieve  them ! 
But  why  do  I  ask?  I  do  not  know  where  to  lay  my 
own  head  to-night  ?" 

"What  you  say.  Miss  Julia?"  Dainty  Dave  ex- 
claimed, in  astonishment,  for  his  attention  was  now, 
for  the  fii*st  time,  turned  from  his  own  misery  to 
the  condition  of  his  young  mistress.  "  You  don't 
know  whar  to  go  ?" 

"  No,  Dave,  I  am  alone,  and  a  stran.ger  in  the  city. 


ROEBUCK.  311 

I  liave  jwst  arrived,  and  I  am  not  willing  to  go  to  a 
hotel.  I  am  in  distress,  and  I  do  not  know  a  man  or 
woman  in  all  this  great  town." 

"Why,  whar's  your  cousin  Clara,  den  ?     She  lives 
liere." 

"  Cousin  Clara  V 

"  Mrs.  West,  you  know." 

Julia  then  remembered  that  the  lady  whom  he 
named,  a  distant  relative  of  her  father,  had  once 
visited  Roebuck.  It  was  when  Julia  was  a  child,  and 
she  had  almost  forgotten  the  lady.  She  had  quite  for- 
gotten that  she  lived  in  Washington.  But  Dave,  who 
was  older  than  his  young  mistress,  remembered  the 
visit  of  Cousin  Clara  very  well.  She  had  importance 
in  his  eyes,  not  because  she  came  to  the  country  from 
the  capital,  but  because  she  was  *'kin  to  de  Fair- 
faxes." Recently  he  had  been  inquiring  about  her, 
with  some  intention  of  claiming  kin  to  keep  himself 
from  starving.  Shame  had  hitherto  held  him  off  from 
her  house,  but  he  knew  where  it  stood,  and  had 
walked  by  it  more  than  once  with  longing  eyes. 
When  Julia  recollected  her  distant  cousin,  and  con- 
Bidered  that  Mrs.  West  was  the  only  person  in  the 
city  upon  whom  she  had  the  slightest  claim,  she  ac- 
cepted Dave's  offer  to  conduct  her  to  the  lady's  house. 
They  walked  on  together,  Dave  keeping  his  proper 
place  as  a  servant,  but  near  enough  to  her  for  conver- 
Bation.  He  chattered  away  continually.  But  little  of 
his  chat  is  worth  recording. 

"  No,  Miss  Julia,  freedom  ain't  for  niggers.  Dey 
can't  git  de  hang  of  it,  and  it  don't  do  'em  no  good. 
Free  niggers  ain't  got  no  friends.  De  rale  friends  of 
de  niggers  is  de  good  masters  and  mistresses  what 
takes  keer  of  'em.     It's  de  ole  Virginny  blood  dat's 


312  ROEBUCK. 

de  frieiicls  of  de  niggers.  Dem's  de  rale  gentlemen 
and  ladies.  Dey  knows  what  to  do  wid  sarvants. 
But  dey's  gwine  down.  Dey's  bin  gwine  down  ever 
Bence  de  universal  suffrage.  I  knowed  dat  would 
make  mischief  to  de  niggers.  And  now  de  ole  fami- 
lies is  gittin'  broke  up  by  de  war.  Next  thing,  dey'U 
have  to  marry  quarter-masters  and  other  low  folks 
what's  made  mon^y  by  de  war.  De  good  ole  blood's 
a  gwine  down.  Whafll  become  of  de  poor  niggers  V 
While  his  tongue  was  running  on,  they  arrived  at 
ISIi's.  West's  house.  Julia  then  divided  with  Dave 
her  remnant  of  cash,  and  telling  him  to  provide  for 
himself  that  night,  and  come  to  see  her  tlie  next  day, 
she  dismissed  him.  When  she  entered  the  house, 
and  made  herself  known,  she  was  received  by  Mrs. 
AYest  with  affectionate  welcome.  The  kind  lady  had 
a  pleasant  remembrance  of  Roebuck,  and  esteemed 
"  Cousin  Fred."  as  he  deserved.  She  had  a  bright, 
busy,  talkative  and  cordial  manner.  With  hospitality, 
she  possessed  intelligence  and  tact.  Unlike  those 
hosts  who  bid  you  make  yourself  at  home,  and  then 
leave  you  to  shift  for  yourself  most  helplessly  in  a 
sti'ange  house,  she  could  make  a  guest  feel  at  home. 
Slie  had  heard  nothing  of  Colonel  Faii'fax's  imprison- 
ment, but  when  Julia  told  her  all  her  painful  story, 
she  manifested  such  sympathy  and  such  a  warm  de- 
sire to  befriend  Cousin  Fred.,  she  suggested  so  many 
plausible  expedients  for  obtaining  his  discharge,  and 
she  offoi-ed  her  assistance  with  so  much  apparent  hope 
of  success,  that  to  Julia's  eager  fancy  the  prison  doors 
seemed  already  to  turn  on  their  hinges  for  her  father's 
release.  Grateful  and  hopeful,  she  laid  her  head  upon 
her  pillow  to  di'eam  of  her  father's  happy  restoration 
to  his  family. 


ROEBUCK.  313 

The  next  moi-ning  she  was  up  early,  impatient  for 
the  hour  when,  accompanied  by  Mrs.  "West,  she  was 
to  start  in  search  of  her  father.  They  were  to  take 
the  round  of  many  prisons,  and,  without  a  chie,  to 
Look  for  him  among  an  immense  number  of  prisoners 
then  confined  in  the  city.  lie  had  been  there  so  short 
a  time,  and  was  so  completely  unknown  to  all  those 
wlio  had  charge  of  the  prisons,  that  they  could  scarcely 
expect  to  find  him  until  they  should  happen  upon  the 
very  room  in  which  he  was  confined.  After  break- 
fast, they  sallied  forth  upon  their  quest.  Although 
they  traversed  the  magnificent  distances  of  the  city 
in  a  carriage,  they  had  walking  enough  in  visiting  the 
various  places  at  which  they  called,  with  climbing 
stairs,  and  standing,  while  they  awaited  the  leisure  of 
those  to  whom  they  made  application,  to  fatigue  even 
the  active  Mrs.  West.  Many  persons  of  whom  they 
inquired,  knew  nothing  of  Colonel  Fairfax;  others 
declined  to  answer  any  questions.  By  some  they 
were  treated  with  politeness,  and  by  others  rudely  re- 
buffed. They  were  very  weary,  and  Julia  was  much 
disheartened,  when,  late  in  the  day,  they  were  told 
that  a  prisoner  from  Virginia,  answering  to  the  de- 
scription which  they  gave  of  Colonel  Fairfax,  was  con- 
fined in  a  room  before  which  they  were  then  stand- 
ing. But  it  was  too  late  to  obtain  admittance  to  the 
prisoners  that  day ;  the  person  who  had  the  custody 
of  Colonel  Fairfax  was  not  present;  nothing  more 
could  be  learned  by  Julia  about  her  fiither,  not  even 
about  his  health.  She  went  away,  feeling  disappoint- 
ment and  anxiety  almost  as  painful  as  if  she  had  not 
discovered  the  place  of  his  imprisonment. 

The  next  day  the  ladies  returned.  The  custodian 
of  Colonel  Fairfax   then   informed   them  that  they 

U 


"Sli  ROEBUCK. 

could  not  be  admUted  to  see  liim  without  a  special  or- 
der from  lii^rher  nuthority.  As  to  t1ie  prisoner's 
health,  he  did  not  know  much,  except  that  "  he 
seemed  to  be  pretty  bad,"  but  he  referred  them  to  the 
Burgeon.  Inquiring  where  the  surgeon  was  to  bo 
found,  and  receiving  a  very  vague  direction,  they 
started  in  searcli  of  that  officer.  Besides  the  anxiety 
of  Julia  to  ascertain  her  father's  true  condition  after 
receiving  the  uncertain  but  alarming  information 
which  she  had  just  heard,  Mrs.  West  suggested  that 
a  certificate  from  the  surgeon  might  promote  the  s'.ic- 
cess  of  their  application  to  be  admitted  into  the  prison. 
But  it  was  several  hours  before  they  found  the  surgeon. 
He  replied  to  their  inquiries  with  civility,  and  when 
he  knew  that  Julia  was  the  daughter  of  the  prisoner, 
he  looked  at  her  with  compassion,  for  he  was  a  man 
of  great  benevolence.  In  tenderness  to  her  he  soft- 
ened the  report  which  he  gave  of  her  father's  condi- 
tion as  much  as  truth  permitted,  and  he  soothed  her 
with  general  expressions  of  hope.  But,  by  "the  use  of 
a  little  dexterity,  he  contrived  to  inform  Mrs.  AVest, 
aside,  that  Colonel  Fairfax  could  not  live  many  days, 
if  he  remained  in  prison.  At  her  request,  he  slipped 
into  her  hand  a  certificate  to  that  efi*ect.  This  was  an 
ariifice  of  kindness  to  save  the  daughter  from  dis- 
tress »w^hich,  as  they  feared,  might  overcome  her,  but 
Mrs.  West  afterwards  discovered  that  Julia  had  in- 
ferred from  the  cautious  conversation  of  the  surgeon 
the  actual  danger  to  her  father's  life.  Reserve  could 
no  longer  be  useful,  and  the  certificate  was  shown 
to  her  soon  after  they  parted  with  the  surgeon.  They 
then  endeavored  to  procure  the  necessary  order  for 
admittance  into  the  prison,  but  official  hours  were 
over,  and  a,nother  day  closed  with  disappointment. 


ROEBUCK.  315 

Such  delays  would  have  been  painful  under  any  ch*- 
cumstances,  but,  with  the  knowledge  whicli  they 
had  acquired,  Julia  sj^ent  the  following  night  in  an- 
guish. 

Wearisome  to  the  ladies,  and  worse  than  wearisome 
to  the  prisoner's  daughter,  were  the  next  few  days ; 
for  so  long  was  it  before  Julia  obtained  permission 
to  see  her  father.  Those  who  have  had  expei-ience 
in  pressing  an  application,  however  trivial  and  unob- 
jectionable, though  official  routine,  can  understand 
how  a  whole  day  may  be  spent  without  any  progress 
in  such  affairs.  When  the  applicants  were  women, 
seeking  fiivor  for  a  rebel  from  the  servants  of  the  of- 
fended government,  it  may  be  imagmed  that  delays 
and  obstacles  were  multiplied.  But  Mrs.  West  was 
never  disheartened.  She  had  been  through  such 
ti-ials  of  patience  before.  She  was  one  of  those  women 
who  habitually  assuaged  the  miseries  of  the  war  by 
charities  to  the  unfortunate.  To  relieve  them,  she  had 
passed  through  scenes  which  were  often  repulsive, 
and  sometimes  revolting  to  a  lady.  With  officials,  her 
gentle  importunity,  now  pathetic  and  then  laughing, 
would  not  be  denied.  Besides,  she  had  acquired 
much  knowledge  of  the  secret  springs  of  influence  at 
Washington.  Finally,  with  the  use  of  the  surgeon's 
certificate,  and  of  her  own  energy  and  adroitness,  she 
succeeded  in  procuring,  not  only  permission  for  Julia 
to  visit  her  father  in  prison,  but  an  order  for  his  dis- 
charge, lie  was  to  be  set  free,  however,  only  upon 
condition  that  lie  would  first  take  an  oath  of  allegiance 
to  the  Federal  government  in  a  prescribed  form. 


816  ROEBUCK. 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

FREDERICK     FAIRFAX. 

Julia  "vrent  to  the  prison.  Iler  step  had  lost  tho 
elastic  lightness  of  youth,  health  and  happiness.  She 
walked  with  the  nervous  celerity  of  painful  excite- 
ment. The  bloom  had  faded  from  her  cheeks.  Above 
their  pallor,  her  eyes  gleamed  with  unnatural  lustre. 
In  her  fluttering  pulse,  suffering  and  heart-sicknes3 
had  extinguished  the  energy  of  hope  and  high  re- 
Bolve.  But  despair  was  still  kept  at  bay  by  the  ex- 
pectation of  seeing  her  father,  and  relieving  him  by 
filial  ministrations. 

She  found  him  in  a  small  room — a  mere  cell.  It 
was  gloomy,  having  only  one  window,  a  little  grated 
opening.  He  lay  on  the  floor,  with  no  bed,  but  soma 
wisps  of  dirty,  broken  straw.  The  close,  corrupted 
air  almost  stifled  Julia  as  she  entered.  The  cell  con- 
tained several  prisoners  besides  her  father.  They 
might  have  been  long  there,  for  their  faces  had  the 
dead  whiteness  and  sullen  indifference  which  come  of 
long  imprisonment.  They  let  the  spider  weave  his 
web  over  their  naiTOw  window  without  raising  a  hand 
to  brush  it  away.  Colonel  Faii-iiix  was  looking  round 
upon  them,  and,  as  Julia  entered  the  door,  she  heard 
him  faintly  utter  the  words  "  poor  fellows  I"  When, 
by  the  dusky  light,  admitted  through  dirty  panes,  she 
saw  him  lying  on  the  floor,  none  but  a  daugliter 
would  have  recognized  his  form  and  features.  His 
wound,  his  frightful  journey  to  the  Federal  capital, 


ROEBUCK.  317 

imprisonment,  suffering,  grief  had  conquered  his 
manly  frame.  His  eyes  were  sunken ;  his  cheeks 
were  hollow  and  haggard ;  his  beard  was  long  and 
white ;  his  grey  hair  was  matted,  his  form  was  ema- 
ciated and  distorted  with  pain;  his  garments  were 
soiled  by  the  filth  in  which  he  lay.  In  all  this  squalid 
wretchedness  nothing  could  be  seen  which  seemed 
properly  to  belong  to  that  noble  gentleman  but  the 
benignity  of  his  countenance  as  he  looked  round  upon 
his  fellow-prisoners. 

His  daughter  hastened  to  his  side,  and  sobbing, 
"  my  father,  my  father,"  she  knelt  down  and  kissed 
him  again  and  again.     Her  tears  trickled  in  showers 
upon  his  face.     Laying  her  cheek  to  his,  she  wept  in 
speechless  agony.     "  Julia,  my  sweet  child,"  he  whis- 
pered, "  do  not  give  Avay  to  despair.     God  is  mer- 
ciful.    We  are  in  his  hands."     She  could  answer  only 
with  tears.     She  had  come  to  comfort  him,  but  the 
first  sight  of  him  had  dissolved  her  firmness.     She  re- 
covered her  voice  only  to  cry  out,  "  O  God !   O  God ! 
can  such  goodness  be  doomed  to  such  misery  ?  my 
father,  my  father!"     His   eyes  filled  with  tears,  and, 
for  a  time,  he  could  not  speak.     At  length  her  parox- 
ysm of  uncontrollable  grief  was  past.     She  recalled  to 
mind  the  duty  which  she  had  come  to  discharge.    She 
eat  upon  the  floor,  and  wiped  her  eyes.     But  her  lip 
still  quivered,  and  she  feared  to  make  an  effort  to 
speak,  lest  her  self-control  should  abandon  her  again. 
"Speak  to  me,   my  daughter.     Tell  me  of  your 
mother.     My  beloved  wife!" 

"  Yes,  papa ;  she  is  with  kind  friends.     Her  great 
trouble  is  for  you." 

"My  wife,  my  wife,  my  wife!" 
"  When  she  knows  that  you  are — are  safe,  she  will 
be  comforted." 


318  ROEBUCK. 

"  May  God  comfort  her." 

"  When  she  sees  you  again  she  will  be  happy.  ** 

"  Ah,  me !     My  unhappy  wife  I" 

"  "We  shall  be  happy  yet,  papa." 

"  Yes — hereafter,"  he  said,  looking  upward. 

"  At  home,  dear  papa." 

"Yes,  in  Heaven." 

"  You  must  recover  your  health.  We  shall  go  to 
mother.     Then  love  will  make  us  all  happy." 

"  Do  not  delude  yourself,  my  daughter.  We  must 
now  look  for  happiness  beyond  this  world.  My  gentle 
Mary !     My  wife,  my  wife,  my  wife  !" 

"  Listen  to  me,  my  dear  papa.  I  have  an  order  for 
your  release  from  imprisonment." 

"  Can  this  be  true,  Julia  ?  Then  I  may  live  to  see 
my  Mary." 

He  uttered  these  words  with  more  vigor  than  he 
had  displayed  since  his  daughter  entered  the  room. 
His  face  was  suddenly  lighted  with  a  flash  of  joy.  He 
laid  his  thin  hand  on  Julia's  waist,  and  feebly  press- 
ing her  to  him,  he  kissed  her  fondly.  The  new-born 
hope  of  freedom  and  of  household  endearments  was 
very  sweet.  The  calm  of  resignation,  which  had  be- 
fore succeeded  the  extinction  of  hope,  was  ruffled. 
For  a  few  moments  he  cherished  his  joy  in  silence. 
His  imagination  flew  to  her  whom  he  had  loved  so 
long,  so  wisely  and  so  well.  The  image  of  his  daugh- 
ter went  with  him  to  the  side  of  his  wife,  and  his  love 
revelled  in  domestic  bliss.  Julia  saw  this  happiness 
in  his  face,  and  she  feared  to  dash  it  by  an  allusion  to 
the  condition  upon  which  he  was  to  be  released.  She 
was  silent  until  he  spoke. 

"Why,  then,  my  darling,  do  we  remain  here 
longer  V  he  whispered  at  last 


ROEBUCK.  319 

"  Are  you  able  to  go  ?"  she  asked,  with  compassbn- 
ate  evasion. 

"Yes,  yes  ;  let  me  be  earned  away.  I  must  see  my 
wife.  I  have  not  long  to  live.  I  must  see  may  wifo 
once  more.  Why  do  you  look  troubled,  daughter  ?  I 
can  bear  the  pain  of  removal.     Let  us  go.'* 

*'  O,  my  dear  papa,  I  must  tell  you.  The  order  is 
that  you  must  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  Fede- 
ral government  before  you  will  be  released." 

He  gazed  at  her  a  little  while,  as  if  he  did  not  fully 
comprehend  the  import  of  her  words.  Then  his  eyes 
closed.  His  pallid  cheeks  gradually  became  livid. 
His  lips  moved  but  uttered  no  sound.  His  fingers 
gi'asped  the  straw  nervously.  Julia  trembled  with 
alarm.  She  feared  that  the  last  shock  had  killed  her 
father.  She  almost  shrieked  ;  but  she  held  her  heart 
to  its  ten-ible  task.  She  was  still  to  sustain  and  com- 
fort her  father.  Bending  over  him,  she  kissed  his 
brow,  and  whispered,  "  Papa,  speak  to  me.  Speak  to 
your  Julia."  He  opened  his  eyes  and  murmured 
a  blessing  upon  his  devoted  child.  She  held  his  hand 
and  softly  pressed  it,  but  again  her  emotion  was  swell- 
ing so  high  that  she  could  not  trust  herself  to  utter  a 
word.  After  a  long  pause,  which  seemed  like  death 
he  looked  up  and  said,  "  I  am  resigned,  Julia.  God's 
will  be  done."  He  relapsed  into  silence,  although  his 
lips  moved  as  if  he  repeated  to  himself  what  was  pass- 
ing in  his  mind. 

"  I  cannot,  my  daughter,"  at  length  he  said, 
"  while  Virginia  remains  distinct  from  the  Federal 
government, — I  cannot  take  that  oath.  My  allegiance 
is  due  to  my  State.  I  will  not  abjure  her  in  her  dire 
extremity.  I  will  not  betray  the  cause  of  my  fellow 
citizens  who  daily  march  to  death.     Let  me  die  with 


320  ROEBUCK. 

them.  Let  me  die  for  Tir^nia.  I  can  die,  Julia, 
even  thus — my  wife — my  daughter — even  thus  I  can 
bear  to  die,  but  I  cannot  take  a  false  oath.  Death  has 
power  over  my  body  only ;  perfidy  would  taint  ray 
soul." 

"  They  say,  papa,  that  such  oaths,  when  taken  under 
compulsion  " 

"  Tempt  me  not,  my  daughter.  Tempt  not  a  fi-ail 
old  man.  Tlie  struggle  has  already  wrung  my  heart. 
It  has  nearly  put  out  this  flickering  life.  I  might  not 
be  able  to  resist  the  persuasion  of  my  beloved,  my 
unhappy  daughter.     O,  spare  your  father." 

His  imploring  anguish  almost  bereft  her  of  all  con- 
trol over  her  passion.  He  clasped  one  of  her  hands 
between  both  his  own  on  his  breast.  She  laid  her 
other  hand  on  his  forehead.  Alternately  he  lifted  his 
eyes  to  Heaven  in  mute  supplication,  or  fixed  them 
upon  the  face  of  his  daughter  with  an  expression  of 
tender,  yearning,  unspeakable  love. 

"Be  not  too  much  cast  down  by  our  misfortunes," 
he  said,  when  he  spoke  again,  '•  do  not  give  way  to 
despair.  The  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken 
away.  Blessed  be  the  name  ©f  the  Lord.  May  he 
protect  you  and  your  mother  when  I  am  gone."  After 
a  brief  pause  he  continued — "  do  not  let  your  heart  be 
corroded  with  resentment  against  our  enemies.  They 
are  mortals  like  ourselves,  and  they  are  blinded  by  the 
passions  of  war  Let  us  forgive  as  we  hope  to  be 
forgiven." 

Again  he  lay,  apparently  engaged  with  thoughts 
which  his  waning  strength  did  not  enable  him  to 
utter.  It  was  manifest  that  lie  was  sinking.  But  he 
rallied  a  little  and  again  addressed  his  daughter  : 

"  Julia,  I  loved  the  Union.   I  would  have  given  my 


ROEBUCK.  821 

life  to  save  it.  Bat  it  is  gone.  However  this  war 
may  end,  the  Union  which  I  loved  is  gone  forever. 
The  free  Union  of  sovereign  States  can  never  be  re- 
Btored,  though  the  South  may  be  subjugated.  If  our 
States  should  be  conquered  I  trust  that  the  spu-it  of 
our  people  will  not  be  debased.  The  hope  of  liberty 
never  dies  while  the  manhood  of  the  people  survives. 
Liberty  may  be  destroyed  in  one  form,  like  this  body, 
and  yet  live  on  like  the  soul.  God  grant  that  the 
freedom  of  our  country  may  endure  forever.'* 

Julia,  believing  that  when  her  father  ceased  to 
speak,  his  mind  was  occupied  with  meditations  which 
she  ought  not  to  interrupt,  waited  in  silence  for  him 
to  speak  to  her  again.  But  what  she  next  heard  was 
not  addressed  to  her.     He  was  repeating — 

"There  the  wicked  cease  from  troublinir,  and  there 
the  weary  be  at  rest.  There  the  prisoners  rest  together ; 
they  hear  not  the  voice  of  the  oppressor." 

When  he  next  addressed  her  it  was  to  ask  if  she  had 
lately  seen  Hugh.  She  replied  that  she  had,  and  that 
he  was  well. 

"  Give  him  my  blessing,  Julia.  He  is  worthy  of 
you.  You  will  be  a  good  wife.  He  will  be  a  son  to 
your  mother." 

These  words  were  uttered  with  extreme  difficulty. 
Afterwards  he  was  silent,  but  restless.  Sometimes  the 
BAigle  word '' wife  "  or  "daughter"  murmured  from 
his  lips. 

The  changes  that  came  over  his  face  foreboded 
the  near  approach  of  the  last  change  of  all.  Julia 
saw  that  the  end  was  at  hand.  She  sat  motion- 
less, gazing  upon  him  and  waiting  for  the  dread  event. 
At  last  a  placid  calm  settled  upon  his  features.  His 
lips   moved — "Heavenly   Father" — though   his   lip3 

14* 


322  ROEBUCK. 

continued  to  move,  no  more  of  the  last  prayer  of  tbo 
good  man  was  heard  on  earth. 

When  Julia  saw  that  he  was  dead  she  did  not  shed 
a  tear.  She  uttered  not  a  word  nor  a  sigh.  She 
placed  his  head  in  her  lap  and  kissed  his  lips,  as  she 
might  have  kissed  him  in  his  sleep.  She  gave  no 
outward  sign  of  sorrow  ;  her  sorrow  was  unutterable. 
Thus  she  sat,  when  a  gruff  voice  notified  her  that  the 
time  had  come  for  her  to  retire.  She  raised  her  tear- 
less eyes  to  the  man  and-  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "  my 
father  is  dead  ;  let  me  stay  with  him."  The  man  re- 
plied, not  with  particular  rudeness,  but  according  to 
the  habit  of  his  place,  "  it  is  against  orders ;  you 
must  go."  She  quietly  lifted  that  venerable  head  from 
her  Mp  and  laid  it  on  the  straw.  She  kissed  the  cold  lips . 
once  more,  and  then  she  rose  up  and  walked  away 
without  a  tear  or  a  sigh.  She  was  benumbed  with 
despair. 

It  was  not  until  hours  afterwards,  it  was  at  mid- 
night in  the  solitude  of  her  chamber,  that  the  icy  rigor 
of  despair  melted  into  overflowing  grief 

The  next  morning  she  was  unable  to  rise  from  her 
bed.  Mrs.  West  went  out  and  made  application  for 
the  body  of  Colonel  Fairfax,  in  order  that  he  might 
have  the  customary  rights  of  sepulchre.  Her  applica- 
tion was  refused.  He  was  buried  among  strangers. 
Those  who  loved  him  cannot  weep  over  the  unknown 
grave  of  Frederick  Fairfax. 


ROEBUCK.  323 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE    END. 

In  a  few  clays  Julia  was  able  to  travel.  Though 
feeble  in  body  and  bruised  in  spirit,  she  would  not 
rest  longer  from  the  sad  duties  that  remained  for  her. 
She  must  return  to  her  mother.  She  must  return 
without  her  i\Uher.  She  must  bear  tidings  of  his 
death  to  his  heart-broken  Vife.  She  must  console 
her  widowed  mother,  or,  as  appeared  more  probable, 
smooth  her  path  to  the  grave.  On  such  melancholy 
duties  the  unhappy  but  unselfish  gui  bent  her  pious 
thoughts. 

At  that  time  the  Federal  authorities  were  permitting 
all  women  and  children  to  go  into  the  Confederacy, 
and  were  sending  thither  some  of  them  who  would 
have  preferred  to  remain  at  their  homes  within  the 
Federal  lines.  Without  difficulty,  therefore,  Mrs. 
West  procured  a  passport  for  Julia  to  go  to  Richmond, 
and  took  passage  for  her  upon  a  steamboat,  which, 
under  a  flag  of  truce,  landed  passengers  within  a  few 
miles  of  the  Confederate  capital.  Thus  was  she  trans- 
ported, with  her  burden  of  sorrow,  to  her  afflicted 
but  still  beloved  State. 

At  Richmond  she  heard  that  Hugh  Fitzhugh  had 
been  dangerously  wounded,  and  that  fie  was  lying  very 
low  in  the  county  to  which  he  had  been  taken  by  his 
mother.  Sorrows  thickened  about  her  at  every  step. 
That  passionate  love  Avhich,  in  young  hearts,  rules 
with  exclusive  dominion,  would  have  carried  her  to 
the  side  of  her  wounded  lover.     She  felt  all  the  tea- 


824  ROEBUCK. 

der  tyranny  of  that  passion.  Bui  her  love  for  her 
mother,  cherished  from  her  birth,  had  been  tln-ough 
life  associated  -vvith  a  sentiment  of  duty.  It  was  now 
consecrated  by  domestic  afilction.  Duty  was  not 
doubtful,  and  Julia  hastened  to  her  mother. 

Mrs.  Fairfax,  during  her  daughter's  absence,  con- 
tinued to  decline  in  health  and  strength.  "When  Julia 
entered  her  apartment  she  raised  herself  with  sudden 
and  unusual  energy  in  her  bed.  She  stretched  out 
her  arras  to  embrace  her  daughter.  While  they 
clasped  each  other  she  cried,  "  your  father,  Julia,  have 
you  seen  your  father?" 

"  Yes,  dearest  mamma,  I  have  seen  him." 

"  Has  he  come  with  you  ?" 

"  O,  mamma,  mamma,  he  has  not  come.  He  can- 
not— he  will  not — O  dear,  dear  mamma,  he  will  never 
come." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  silently  sunk  down  upon  the  bed. 
Julia  laid  her  head  on  the  pillow  beside  her  mother's, 
endeavoring  to  comfort  her  with  nestling  fondness. 
The  widow  uttered  no  loud  lamentation.  A  few  sobs 
and  broken  sentences  expressed  her  agony.  A  few 
great  tears  trickled  over  her  temples.  She  closed  her 
eyes  to  shut  out  the  world,  which  for  her  had  lost  its 
light.  She  lay  bleeding  inwardly.  The  tenm*e  of  her 
life  was  broken. 

Thenceforth  she  faded  away.  In  long  hours  of 
silence,  by  day  and  by  night,  the  hope  of  being  united 
once  more  and  forever  with  her  husband  in  a  better 
v/orld,  occupied  her  mind.  Her  daughter  was  always 
with  her,  denying  herself  almost  entirely  the  repose 
which  she  so  much  needed.  Her  sweet,  untiring, 
patient  love  soothed  the  wounds  of  the  heart  which  no 
earthly  hand  could  heal.     Sometimes  she  allured  her 


ROEBUCK.  325 

mother  into  conversation,  and  they  talked  of  by-gone 
days,  or  of  those  who  were  most  dear  to  them,  or  of 
whatever  subject  had  interest  enough  for  the  widow 
to  withdraw  her  attention  from  fatal  griefs.  Whether 
in  conversation  or  in  meditation,  religion  was  always 
present  to  the  thoughts  of  both,  for  both  were  sin- 
cerely pious,  and  death,  then  familiar  alike  to  memory 
and  to  expectation,  brought  religion  constantly  before 
them  as  the  light  of  the  grave.  Mrs.  Fairfax  was 
sometimes  visited  by  the  Reverend  Mr.  Ambler,  who 
had  left  the  village  with  Fitzhugh's  regiment  when 
the  Federals  were  driven  out,  and  he  was  now  sojourn- 
ing a  few  miles  from  the  house  in  which  she  was  a 
guest.  From  him  she  received  those  counsels  and 
consolations  which  it  was  his  office  to  bestow,  and  all 
that  tender  sympathy  which  the  calamities  of  his  dear- 
est friends  excited  in  the  bosom  of  this  venerable 
man.  When  they  conversed,  as  sometimes  they 
must,  of  the  terrible  misfortunes  which  had  befallen 
their  country  as  well  as  themselves,  and  the  soul  of 
Mrs.  Fairfax  was  steeped  in  sorrow,  he  presented  the 
only  solace  which  remained  for  such  misfortunes. 
Often  she  desired  her  daughter  to  sing,  and  her  musi- 
cal voice  seemed  to  alleviate  the  widow's  grief  It  was 
a  severe  trial  of  Julia's  fortitude  to  control  her  own 
agitation  and  modulate  her  voice  to  music,  especially 
when  her  mother  asked  her  to  sing  such  hymns  aa 
this : 

IIYMK. 


"We  cry  to  thee,  O  Father  of  the  fatherless, 
Out  of  the  depths,  O  Friend  of  the  forlorn  : 

Among  their  dead  the  living  call  in  dire  distress, 
The  orphans  wail,  the  widowed  mothers  mourn. 


826  ROEBUCK. 

The  earth  is  darkened  and  the  heav'ns  are  as  a  pall ; 

In  starless  gloom  vre  pray  to  Thee  for  light : 
Out  of  the  depths,  while  sorrow  overshadows  alU 

We  call  to  Thee,  O  Father ;   all  is  night. 

To  prayer  thine  ear  is  ever  open  as  the  skj — 

To  cries  of  woe  or  secret  Righs  of  care  : 
All  tears  are  known  to  Him  who  deigned  on  earth  to  die  | 

Thi-ough  Him,  his  tears  and  blood,  O  hear  our  prayer. 

Let  there  be  light  where  crime  and  fear  and  anguish  fill 

With  darkness  all  the  circle  of  our  sun : 
But  if  for  sin  our  stricken  hearts  must  suffer  still, 

Thy  name  be  hallowed  and  Thy  will  be  done.  "' 

When  Mrs.  Faii'fax  became  certain  that  she  was 
about  to  die  she  was  not  only  resigned,  but  wag 
almost  cheerful.  Finally  she  fell  into  the  sleep  that 
knows  no  waking,  as  gently  as  a  babe  falls  asleep  in 
a  mother's  arms. 

Julia,  after  fulfilling  her  last  filial  duty,  accepted  an 
invitation  from  Mrs.  Fitzhugh  to  visit  that  lady  at  the 
cottage  which  she  then  occupied  with  her  son.  Be- 
fore leaving  the  county,  a  natural  feeling  induced 
Julia  to  visit  Roebuck,  which  she  had  not  seen  since 
she  was  driven  from  the  house  by  fire,  and  snatched 
from  her  parents  by  violence.  She  found  a  scene  of 
desolation  where,  according  to  her  fond  recollection, 
she  had  known  a  paradise.  The  grounds  in  which 
her  childhood  had  played  were  strewn  with  fragments 
of  their  former  decorations.  The  garden  which  she 
had  left  in  blooming  beauty  was  covered  with  a  mat 
of  trampled  stems.  Here  and  there  scanty  patches 
of  corn  were  lazily  cultivated  by  the  negroes  who 
remained,   but  over  wide  fields   the   wheat,  unhar- 


ROEBUCK.  327 

Tested,  was  left  to  rot,  and  the  corn  was  overgrown 
with  weeds.  Fences  were  destroyed,  barns  were 
bnmt,  fruit-trees  were  cut  down.  Blackened,  roofless 
walls  were  all  that  remained  of  the  elegant  mansion 
in  which  a  happy  family  had  lived  so  long,  in  the 
unity  of  love,  and  in  the  practice  of  every  dome&tio, 
every  social  virtue.  There,  whatever  is  admirable  in 
refinement  was  familiar  as  a  household  habit.  There, 
a  generous  hospitality,  and  more  generous  charity, 
were  dispensed  as  duly  as  the  prayer  for  daily  bread 
was  repeated  at  morning  and  evening.  When  Julia 
stood  alone,  a  solitary  orphan,  on  the  marble  steps 
which  had  been  trodden  by  so  many  entering  and  do- 
parting  guests,  she  looked  through  the  opening,  in 
which  the  hospitable  door  had  stood,  and  saw  nothing 
but  ashes.  The  scenes  of  happiness  within  those 
walls  which  her  memory  now  recalled,  served  only  to 
deepen  her  sense  of  desolation.  But  most  sorrowful 
of  all  associations  with  the  scene,  were  the  recent  suf- 
ferings and  death  of  her  father  and  mother,  and  of  an 
uncle  whom  she  had  loved  almost  as  dearly  as  she 
loved  her  parents.  As  she  stood  among  the  ruins  of 
her  home,  and  wept  over  the  calamities  of  her  family, 
vividly  remembering  the  dreadful  scenes  through 
which  she  had  passed,  and  looking  forward  to  a  dark 
futxu-e,  a  feeling  overcame  her,  not  unlike  the  despair- 
ing sentiment  of  the  Preacher : — "  So  I  returned  and 
considered  all  the  oppressions  that  are  done  under  the 
sun ;  and  beheld  the  tears  of  such  as  were  oppressed, 
and  they  had  no  comforter ;  and  on  the  side  of  their 
oppressors  there  was  power ;  but  they  had  no  com- 
forter. Wherefore,  I  praised  the  dead  which  are  al- 
ready dead,  more  than  the  living  which  are  yet  alive. 
yea,  better  is  he  than  both  they  which  hath  not  yet 


328  ROEBUCK. 

been,  who  hath  not  seen  the  evil  work  that  is  done 
under  the  sun." 

But  the  soul  of  Julia  Fairfax  could  not  long  dwell 
in  the  degradation  of  despair.  She  could  not  long 
cherish  a  vindictive  feeling.  The  most  unhappy  life 
could  not  »ppear  worthless  to  one  who  valued  life  for 
the  power  of  doing  good.  In  misfortune  her  tender 
heart  yielded  the  tribute  which  nature  demands,  but 
then,  without  repining,  and  without  resentment,  she 
turned  with  firm,  though  gentle  resolution,  to  the  du- 
ties which  misfortune  imposes. 

After  this  visit  to  Roebuck,  she  took  leave 
of  the  kind  friends  who  had  given  shelter  to 
her  mother,  and  went  to  the  humble  cottage  of 
Mrs.  Fitzhugh.  The  old  lady  received  her  with 
motherly  affection.  Hugh  had  passed  the  crisis  of 
danger,  and  was  slowly  recovering.  Yet  it  was  not 
deemed  certain  that  his  former  strength  would  ever 
be  restored.  "When  he  was  first  brought  to  the  cot- 
tage, every  one  who  saw  him,  except  his  mother,  ex- 
pected him  to  die  from  hour  to  hoiw.  But  the  brave 
and  proud  woman  would  not  believe  that  her  gallant 
son  was  to  die.  Disdaining  to  yield  to  her  own  in- 
firmity, she  nursed  him  with  unremitting  care.  Others 
often  would  have  relieved  her  of  this  duty,  but  she  re- 
garded herself  as  a  sentinel  between  life  and  death  for 
her  son,  and  she  would  not  desert  her  post.  AVhen 
Julia  arrived,  he  was  still  feeble,  but  he  was  out  of 
danger. 

His  love  was  as  balm  to  her  heart.  Consoling  and 
consoled,  she  felt  the  power  of  mutual  love  to  sweeten 
sorrow.  He  desired  tliat  their  marriage  should  take 
place  without  delay.  Whatever  objections  she  urged, 
he  derived  arguments  so  forcible  from  the  circum- 


ROEBUCK.  329 

stances  in  which  they  were  placed,  that,  in  a  short 
time,  with  her  coy  consent,  he  sent  for  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Ambler,  and  Julia  Fairfax  became  the  bride  of 
Hugh  Fitzhugh. 


FINIS. 


\ 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
942 


